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THE SIX-YEAR-OLD’S 
STORY-BOOK 





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“Oh, my playhouse that Daddy promised meI”—P age 122 























































THE 

SIX-YEAR-OLD'S 
STORY-BOOK 



1 » 

0 ) } 

>>> 

IllMstrated by Florerxce Liley Y)'ut\C 

LOTHROR LEE. L SHEPARD CO. 

BOSTON 


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"fZ? 

SL 

GoPU^‘ 


Copyright, 1929, 

By Lothrop^ Lee & Shepard Co. 
All Rights Reserved 
The Six-Year-Old’s Story-Book 



Printed in U. S. A. 



SEP 18 I9?9 ' 




CONTENTS 


Chapter 

Page 

I. 

Lulu and Her Kittens . . 

• 9 

II. 

On the Way to School . . 

. 20 

III. 

May-Flowers. 

• 32 

IV. 

Rainy-Day Games . . . 

. 46 

V. 

Chummy. 

• 57 

VI. 

Rose Has the Measles . . 

. 68 

VII. 

New Impressions for Rose . 

. 81 

VIII. 

A New Game ..... 

• 91 

IX. 

Uncle Jim’s Visit .... 

. 103 

X. 

Louise’s Birthday . . . 

. I 17 

XI. 

A Busy Morning .... 

• I3I 

XII. 

Adventures . . . . . 

• 144 

XIII. 

Rose’s Birthday . . ... . 

. 158 

XIV. 

Midsummer Fun ., . . ... 

.. 171 

XV. 

Going Home. 

... 184 


5 








ILLUSTRATIONS 

^^Oh, my playhouse that Daddy promised 

me!” (Page 122) . . . Frontispiece 

Facing Page 

She held the wee thing very gently . . . 18 

She held Teddy’s hand in a startled grip . 42 

So Rose had a fine time.. 94 

A great head almost over her 148 

It had taken just one jump . , 178 


7 




THE SIX-YEAR-OLD’S 
STORY-BOOK 


CHAPTER I 

LULU AND HER KITTENS 

A pretty white farm-house stood back 
of a big garden, behind two elm-trees. The 
garden was a lovely place for play. There 
was a hammock under the trees, and a 
swinging chair near it. Cinnamon roses 
and lilacs grew thickly together on one 
side, like a hedge, and there were red ram¬ 
blers against the house. 

The little girl who lived in that white 
farm-house was named Louise. She had 
short brown hair, blue eyes, and very rosy 
cheeks. She was eight years old, and was 
as happy as a child could be, except that 
sometimes she longed for a playmate. Of 



10 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

course, she saw her little friends at school 
every day, hut none of them lived near her, 
so after school and on holidays she was 
sometimes lonely. But she talked to Mother 
and sometimes helped her, too; she played 
with Madge, the big collie dog; she hunted 
for eggs in the barns and henhouses; she 
walked with her Daddy, down the long 
pasture road and sometimes across the 
brook, to drive home the cows every eve¬ 
ning. Sometimes she rode on Prince’s back, 
when he and the other horses were taken to 
the watering-trough. Oh, she had many 
pleasant things to do, but sometimes she 
wished for a playmate! 

The big garden was a fine place for the 
dolls. Louise often put them in the ham¬ 
mock or the swinging chair, and played 
with them there for many happy hours. 
Sometimes she and the dolls had a little 


LULU AND HER KITTENS ii 

tea-party by the rose-bushes. Her Daddy 
had promised to build her a little play¬ 
house, big enough for her to get in. Louise 
hoped he would do it soon. She felt very 
pleased and happy when she thought 
about it. 

At the back of the house was a big yard, 
with barns and chicken-runs opening 
from it, and back of the barns was the or¬ 
chard. The upper barn, nearest the house, 
was the one Louise especially liked. It had 
big double doors that stood open all day. 
Inside, the sunlight streamed across the 
floor. The hens scratched in the chaff and 
straw. On each side were big mows of hay, 
piled to the roof in the fall. But, all win¬ 
ter, horses and cattle were fed from these 
mows, and by the time spring came, the 
hay was nearly gone. Louise liked it best 
of all, then. She could climb up a ladder 


12 


SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 


to the hayloft, and jump from there down 
into the soft hay. It was such fun! 

In spring, the barn-swallows came back. 
They had nests inside the barn, at the very 
top. There was a little opening cut for 
them, just above the big double doors. It 
was always open, during spring and sum¬ 
mer, so they might fly back and forth at 
will. 

Louise often came in the barn to play. 
She loved to sit there, and watch the swal¬ 
lows above her. Sometimes she found, in 
the hay, bits of egg-shell from their nests, 
dropped when the little birds hatched. 
Once she found an egg, unbroken—such 
a tiny pretty speckled thing. She kept a lit¬ 
tle three-legged stool in the barn for her 
own use. On this she sat, one lovely spring 
morning. The sunlight shone across the 
floor, warm and bright. Louise held Hor- 


LULU AND HER KITTENS 13 


tense, her doll, in her lap, but had forgot¬ 
ten dolly at that moment. She was watching 
the big gray cat. Her Daddy had told 
Louise there were kittens hidden some¬ 
where in the hay. Louise knew that the 
mother-cat would go to her babies soon. 
Just now she lay curled up in the sun on 
some hay. 

“Dear me!” thought Louise, “I believe 
she has gone to sleep.” A hen came in the 
barn. She inspected Louise, with her head 
turned to one side, then she strutted past 
her, to fly up into the haymow with a loud 
squawk. 

t 

“She must have a nest up there,” 
thought Louise. “I believe I know where 
it is, too. I shall go up there and look for 
it, by and by.” The hen had disturbed 
the gray cat that arose now to stretch 
herself. Then she, too, walked across the 


14 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

floor, past Louise, to the back of the barn. 

“Pussy moves along as smoothly as my 
big rubber ball,” thought Louise. She 
watched the old cat eagerly, saw her jump 
up on a projection at the side of the hay¬ 
mow, and disappear. 

“Now, where did she go?” murmured 
Louise. She arose, laid Hortense on the 
stool, and ran to the back of the barn. She 
looked where pussy had disappeared. 
There, under a big timber, where the hay 
had not been pressed down tightly, was a 
dark-looking hole. Louise wondered if she 
could push her way into it. It was like 
a tiny tunnel, one side made by the barn 
wall, the other by hay. She found she could 
squeeze in, and pushed her way farther 
and farther. It was dark in there. Louise 
herself filled the opening so that no light 
could get past her. But she crept onward 


LULU AND HER KITTENS 15 

in the dusty darkness, feeling before her 
with one hand. It was a long tunnel, for 
it led right to the back of the haymow. 
Louise had nearly reached its end when her 
hand touched something soft and warm. 
She could tell that this was Lulu, the gray 
pussy. But her hands found more than 
Lulu. She counted, as well as she could, 
for she could not see at all. But her hands 
told her—one, two, three, four, five tiny 
soft kittens. “Oh, the darling things! I 
wish I could see them,” she said. She cud¬ 
dled one in her hand against her face, then 
tried to turn around, but the tunnel was 
too small for that. Since she couldn’t turn, 
she must crawl out, backwards. It wasn’t 
a very easy journey, especially as she held 
the wee kitten now, and the hay tangled 
continually about her feet. But she finally 
came out into the sunlight, and sat down 


i6 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

to look at the bit of soft fur in her hand. 
It said “mew-w-w,” in a very tiny voice, 
as if it were crying. It was a little gray 
kitten, exactly like its mother. Louise 
wished to take it in the house, to show her 
mother. 

“But it is crying,” she thought. “Per¬ 
haps it is too little to leave that warm nest.” 
She set it down in the hay. 

“Can you walk back yourself, little 
puss?” she asked. “Gracious! No, of 
course you can’t. Why, your little bits of 
eyes are tight shut. You can’t see a thing. 
I’ll have to take you back.” 

But she didn’t. Lulu came out of the 
hole, just then. She was anxious about her 
baby. There it lay, right at its mother’s 
feet, crying “mew-w-w” in its baby-kitten 
voice, over and over. Lulu caught her kit¬ 
ten in her mouth, holding it by the soft 


LULU AND HER KITTENS 17 

loose skin at the back of its neck. She held 
the wee thing very gently, and disap¬ 
peared with it into the tunnel in the hay. 
Louise sighed, with pleasure, and relief, 
too. 

‘^‘Thank you. Lulu,” she said, “I am so 
glad you came after your baby. I hated to 
crawl into that tight hole again.” She 
pulled some bits of hay from her hair, 
picked up Hortense from the stool where 
she lay, and ran into the house to tell her 
mother all about it. 

“I won’t go in after them again. Mother, 
till their eyes are opened,” said Louise. 

So she waited several days before creep¬ 
ing in again. It seemed easier this time, 
as though the hole were larger. “I guess 
I’m making it more my size by creeping 
through it,” she told herself. 

She found the kittens, no mother-cat be- 


18 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 


ing around just then. “I’ll count them 
more easily with Lulu away,” she said, 
but her hands found only two little kittens. 

“My! That is queer,” she murmured. 
She felt all about in the hay, but found no 
more. 

“I expect I counted Lulu’s tail, and two 
of her paws, before,” she thought, with 
a little laugh. 

This time Louise managed to turn 
around. She crept out, with both the kit¬ 
tens, and then she had a great surprise, 
for both the tiny soft things were black. 

Louise sat on the barn floor for some 
time, holding the little black kittens. She 
was thinking. Last summer, George, the 
hired man, had brought Lulu and a little 
gray kitten into the house, and given the 
wee kitten to Louise. To Mrs. Allen, 
Louise’s mother, he had said: “I saved the 



She held the wee thing very gently.— i7, 
















































































LULU AND HER KITTENS 19 


prettiest.” Her eyes fell now on George, 
outside in the yard, leading Prince to the 
water ing-trou gh. 

“It is just what I might have expected,” 
she murmured mournfully. “Anyhow, I 
am glad he saved two, this time. And they 
are such pretty ones.” 


CHAPTER II 


ON THE WAY TO SCHOOL 

The little country school that Louise 
attended was about a quarter of a mile 
from her home. She loved school. She was 
a clever little girl, and so did not find her 
school-work difficult. Spelling was fun, 
and she enjoyed the reading lessons. Her 
first studies in geography were proving to 
be very interesting. Nature study was bet¬ 
ter than a story book. Arithmetic was hard 
work, but her mother helped her with it 
at home, and, after a time, it gave Louise 
a thrill of pleasure to find that her own ef¬ 
forts could conquer the hard problems. 
She usually came home from school burst¬ 
ing with some funny, or pleasant, or ex¬ 
citing news to tell her mother. 

Therefore, it surprised Mrs. Allen very 


20 


ON THE WAY TO SCHOOL 21 


much when her little girl came home one 
afternoon in tears, out of breath from run¬ 
ning, her face hot and discolored. She 
cried in her mother’s lap for several min¬ 
utes before she could find her voice. 

“Nobody hurt me. Mother,” she said, 
in answer to questions. “No, I didn’t fall 
down. Teacher didn’t scold me. I was 
afraid of a—of a—” sobs carried the words 
away for a moment “—of a big dog.” 

“Whose dog, dear?” asked Mrs. Allen. 
“One you met on the road, I suppose.” 
She was thinking no big dogs lived at any 
of the houses Louise must pass. 

“No,” said Louise, “this dog belongs 
to those new people on Pierce’s farm. It 
is a big yellow one, such a BIG dog. It ran 
down over the bank at me, and barked and 
growled. I couldn’t get by, at first, and 
then I tried to run, and it tore my dress. 



22 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 


See?” Her tears flowed again as she ex¬ 
hibited the jagged tear in her skirt. 

“And their cows,” she went on, “were 
in that field across the road, and the fence 
is down, and some of them were on the 
roadside, and some right on the road. 1 
had to come past them, all alone.” 

“Where was Lucy?” asked Mrs. Allen. 
“She comes this way.” 

“She wasn’t at school, and she won’t be 
there for two or three weeks. She has gone 
in town to stay with her Aunt Kathie while 
her uncle is away. And I am afraid to go 
to school any more.” 

“Never mind,” said Mrs. Allen, “don’t 
be afraid, dear. I’ll walk up the road, as 
far as Pierce’s farm, with you to-morrow.” 

“Oh, Mother! Will you? And will you 
come to meet me, after school?” 

“Yes, I shall watch for you. Perhaps, 


ON THE WAY TO SCHOOL 23 

after a few days, you will make the dog 
your friend. You usually like dogs, don’t 
you?” 

“Yes, but not this one,” said Louise 
sadly. “He is too big. And he growls. And 
he tore my dress. He looks as if he frowned 
at me.” 

Mrs. Allen smiled, “You have a way of 
changing frowns to smiles, little girl,” she 
said, kissing her daughter. 

Louise soon forgot her troubles. She 
ran off to the barn to get eggs; then down 
to the pasture to watch Mr. Allen repair 
a fence. And after supper, there were les¬ 
sons to study. 

But, on the following morning, Louise 
looked very sober. That dog! And the 
cows! She dreaded the walk to school. So 
when she saw Mrs. Allen preparing to go 
out, Louise rejoiced, for this meant pro- 


24 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

tection. Besides, it was a pleasure to have 
Mother walk to school with her. 

Down at the foot of the long hill, they 
passed Pierce’s gate. There was a rumble, 
and a deep heavy “Woof, woof,” and out 
the gate rushed the big yellow dog. Louise 
pressed close to her mother, trembling. 
Mrs. Allen walked calmly on, paying no 
attention to the dog. He leaped in front of 
them, and around them, barking that loud 
deep bark. Mrs. Allen smiled at Louise 
and said: “He seems noisy, but I don’t 
believe he is frowning this morning.” 
Louise said nothing. She felt very fright¬ 
ened. And when the dog left them, and 
ran back through the gateway, she 
breathed a deep sigh of relief. As they 
passed the broken fence, the cows could be 
seen some distance away, up in the field, 
peacefully grazing. So all was safe, now. 


ON THE WAY TO SCHOOL 25 


Her mother kissed her good-by, and 
Louise went on to school alone. 

Mrs. Allen hurried toward home, as 
this time taken from her busy morning 
could hardly be spared. Just before she 
reached home, a voice hailed her from the 
house across the road. 

“Good morning, Mrs. Allen,” said the 
voice. 

I 

She turned to call a good morning to 
her neighbor, Mrs. Shaw. 

“Have you been down the hill to call 
on our new neighbors?” laughed Mrs. 
Shaw. 

“No,” said Mrs. Allen, “I’ve been tak¬ 
ing Louise part way to school. She was 
afraid of their dog. I don’t wonder at it 
a bit.” 

“Yes,” said Mrs. Shaw, “Teddy said they 
have a big fierce-looking dog. So poor 


26 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

little Louise is afraid of him? You must 
send her over here to-morrow, to go to 
school with Teddy.” 

“I shall be much obliged to Teddy, if 
he will look after her,” said Mrs. Allen. 
“I really haven’t time to go with her my¬ 
self, every morning.” 

“Of course not,” said Mrs. Shaw. “And 
Teddy will be glad to look after her.” 

So that is how it was arranged. 

Teddy Shaw was a big boy, twelve years 
old, and both sturdy and kind-hearted. 
When Mrs. Allen told Louise, that eve¬ 
ning, that Teddy would take her to school 
the next morning, she felt greatly relieved. 
Teddy seemed almost like a man to her. 
He was big and strong, and not afraid of 
dogs or cows. She crossed the road, the 
next morning, feeling rather shy, and 
waited at Shaw’s gate. 


ON THE WAY TO SCHOOL 


27 


In the house, his mother said to Teddy, 
“There is Louise at the gate. I told Mrs. 
Allen to let her walk to school with you 
to-day. She is afraid of the dog and the 
cows, too, at Pierce’s farm.” 

“The new people are named Owens,” 
said Teddy. “They have a big fierce- 
looking dog, but why is she afraid of their 
cows?” 

“She is a very little girl, Teddy. It is 
different with a big boy like you.” 

“Well, I’ll be a hero, and protect her,” 
said Teddy, laughing, “but I hope none of 
the other boys see me.” 

“Now Teddy!” reproved Mrs. Shaw. 
“What difference would that make?” 

“Not any,” said Teddy. “If they try to 
get funny. I’ll hammer it out of them.” 

“Teddy!” cried his mother, in shocked 
tones, “you wouldn’t do that?” 


' 28 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 


“Now, Mother, what difference would 
that make?” laughed Teddy, in his turn, 
as he went out the door. 

At the gate, he called out: “Hello, 
Louise! You waiting for me?” 

“Yes,” said Louise, a bit bashfully. 
Teddy seemed so big. 

“Well, let’s go,” said he, and off they 
went. 

Louise told him about the fright she 
had had, and Teddy said kindly, “The way 
to do is not to let him see you’re frightened. 
Walk right ahead, and if he doesn’t get 
out of your way, tell him to. And the cows 
won’t hurt you. They’re all quiet. They 
will never notice you. You are not afraid 
of your dad’s cows, are you?” 

“No,” said Louise, “but—” 

A loud fierce barking interrupted her, 
and the great yellow dog came crashing 



ON THE WAY TO SCHOOL 


29 


out the gate. She stopped, her heart beat¬ 
ing furiously. 

“Don’t let him see you’re afraid,’’ ad¬ 
monished Teddy. He stooped and picked 
up a stick. 

“Oh, don’t hit him, Teddy!’’ cried 
Louise fearfully. “He will bite you. I’m 
sure.” 

Teddy laughed. “Here, Sport,” he 
shouted. “Go get it,” and he threw the 
stick. 

The big dog stopped barking. He raced 
after the stick and, seizing it in his mouth, 
brought it back and dropped it at Teddy’s 
feet. “Wuff, wuff, wuff,” he rumbled 
loudly, and, to Louise’s fascinated eyes, it 
almost seemed as if he smiled. She told 
her mother afterwards that he did. 

“Good Sport,” said Teddy. He caught 
the dog by the neck, shook his head gently 


30 


SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 


from side to side, rumpled his ears, and 
patted him. The big yellow dog seemed to 
like it. Louise was speechless with admira¬ 
tion over Teddy’s bravery. 

“I made friends with this fellow last 
night,” explained Teddy. “That’s why he 
lets me do it.” The children walked on, 
while the dog barked a loud and rumbling 
“Good-by.” 

Some of the dreaded cows were grazing 
at the roadside. “I suppose,” said Louise, 
with a little laugh, “you’ll shake one by the 
ears, and call her ‘good Bossie,’ and have 
her run to fetch a stick.” 

Teddy laughed, too. “Don’t notice them, 
and they won’t notice you,” he said. The 
children walked past, unmolested. “And 
Mr. Owens’ hired man is going to fix the 
fence to-day. This is the last day the cows 
will be on the road.” 


ON THE WAY TO SCHOOL 31 

“How do you know?” asked Louise in 
surprise. 

“I heard them say so last night. They 
were looking over that break in the fence, 
when I came home from school. I’ll wait 
for you right here, to-night,” he went on. 
“Here comes Annie to meet you.” 

Annie was running toward them with 
her skipping rope. So Teddy hurried 
ahead, and left the two little girls to skip 
along to school together. 


CHAPTER III 


MAY-FLOWERS 

Mr. Williams, a neighbor of the Allens, 

f 

and his daughter Carrie, came one Fri¬ 
day evening to Mr. Allen’s house. Mr. 
Williams had business to talk over with 
his neighbor, and sixteen-year-old Carrie 
had come to chat with Mrs. Allen and 
Louise. She was a happy, jolly girl, and 
Louise was very fond of her. 

The two men soon finished their busi¬ 
ness talk, and joined in the general con¬ 
versation. 

“Well, Louise, I thought you’d be up 
in my back pasture with Carrie, long be¬ 
fore this, for may-flowers,” said Mr. Wil¬ 
liams. 

“May-flowers?” Louise sat up excitedly. 
“Are there any up there?” 

32 


MAY-FLOWERS 


33 


“I saw some pretty bunches of buds, day 
before yesterday, when I was up that way,” 
came the reply. 

“Where, Dad?” asked Carrie. 

“They were in that little gully up near 
the northeast corner of the pasture,” her 
father told her. 

“Let’s go, to-morrow, and look for 
them, Louise,” said Carrie. 

“Oh! I’d love to. May I go. Mother?” 

“Of course,” answered Mrs. Allen. 
“You may, if Carrie goes. I’d like a nice 
bouquet of may-flowers. Why don’t you 
get Teddy to go with you? He knows 
where the nicest ones grow.” 

“Mother, I’ll go over to Shaws’ right 
now, and ask him to go,” cried Louise, 
excitedly. 

“No, dear. It is dark now. Wait till to- 

t 

morrow.” 


34 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

“I’ll go with you, Louise. Come along,” 
said Carrie. “We aren’t afraid of the dark, 
Mrs. Allen.” 

“Run along, then,” laughed Mrs. Allen, 
and they ran. 

Mrs. Shaw admitted them to her bright 
warm sitting-room in some surprise. 
Teddy, when he heard their errand, was 
enthusiastic over the idea. 

“Of course I’ll go,” he said. “That is, 
if Mother doesn’t need me.” 

“You may go after you finish 
your chores, Teddy,” said Mrs. Shaw, 
kindly. 

“I have a few things I must attend to 
in the morning, too,” admitted Carrie. 
“Let’s go in the afternoon!” 

So, early the next afternoon, the three 
young people trudged off, across Mr. Wil¬ 
liams’ meadow land, for the pasture. But, 


MAY-FLOWERS 


35 

first, they must cross the brook. It was a 
big brook, nearly a small river in the 
spring, deep and swift in places, wide and 
shallow in others, with waterfalls, and 
slow, quiet pools. It was a lovely brook. 
But the water was too cold for wading, and 
too deep, also, after the spring thaws and 
rains. 

“The bridge Dad put across the brook 
last fall is still here,” said Carrie, “but it 
doesn’t look safe, although he crosses on 
it himself.” Carrie’s voice had a worried 
sound. 

The bridge was made of two poles, 
dropped, side by side, across the water, 
with steps nailed on at short intervals. “It 
is like a ladder,” said Louise. 

Teddy tested the bridge by stepping on 
it, and stamping gently, till he started it 
swaying slightly. Suddenly he ran across 


36 SIX-YEAR-OLD'S STORY-BOOK 

like a deer, leaving the girls gasping in 
startled fashion. Then he came back, more 
slowly. 

“It seems safe,” he said. “Come along, 
Louise. I’ll help you over. If it holds us 
together, it will hold Carrie.” 

Louise didn’t need help, however. She 
followed bravely in Teddy’s footsteps, and 
both children crossed safely. 

“Hurry, Carrie,” called Teddy, and 
Carrie stepped nervously onto the frail 
bridge. 

“Come on! It isn’t deep. What if you 
do fall in,” urged Teddy. 

“Oh no I It isn’t deep,” said Carrie with 
sarcasm. “It is up to my waist, and flowing 
along like a mill-race, and cold as ice, and 
it gets deeper farther on. I don’t care to 
fall in, thank you.” 

“Mr. Williams crosses on it,” protested 


MAY-FLOWERS 


37 


Louise. “Try it, Carrie. It must be safe, or 
he would have warned us.” 

Carrie stepped along fearfully, with a 
little scream and a lurch at every step. 

“I am not afraid it won’t hold me— 
oooo—” she gasped, “I’m afraid I may— 
oooo—fall! Oh! What a relief to be over,” 
for over she was. “How are we ever to get 
back?” 

“Don’t worry, yet,” laughed Teddy. 
“The water will probably fall a foot or 
two before we get the may-flowers all 
picked.” 

“Then we can wade back,” cried Louise. 

They found may-flowers on the sides of 
the little gully, growing in profusion. 
There were patches of the thick, light- 
green leaves, and the children, parting 
these, found the clusters of lovely pink- 
and-white flowers. 



38 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

“Aren’t these gorgeous?” cried Carrie. 
“Oh! look at this cluster! Did you ever 
see such pink ones?” 

“See this one,” said Louise, showing 
another beautiful stem of pink flowers. 

“They are all shades, here, aren’t they?” 
exclaimed Carrie. “I’ve found white ones, 
and pale pink ones, and so on, up to the 
deepest shades of pink.” 

“I guess no wild flower smells as sweet 
as these,” said Teddy. 

“Mmm!” murmured both girls, bury¬ 
ing their noses in the fragrance for a mo¬ 
ment. 

They gathered all the well-opened 
blooms on the little hillside, leaving plenty 
of buds untouched. 

“Let’s go on to Allen’s pasture,” said 
Teddy. “I found a fine bunch of may- 
flowers in there last year.” 


MAY-FLOWERS 


39 


The girls agreed eagerly to this, so 
Teddy, acting as guide, led them along 
over fences, and through a wooded section, 
where a ridge of snow, very old and pitted, 
still lay under the trees. The may-flowers 
in Allen’s pasture-land proved to be more 
scattered. The children searched diligently 
all about them, finding flowers and buds, 
till Louise declared her hands could hold 
no more. 

“There is one more place I’d like to 
visit, while we are on this side of the 
brook,’’ Carrie suggested, “up by Alden’s 
Hill. I haven’t been up there for years, but 
there were lovely may-flowers there, then.” 

“Let’s go and see,” said Teddy. 

It was a long walk, over rough pasture 
land, wet and bushy, following the course 
of the brook. Louise and Carrie were both 
tired when they came to the foot of the 


40 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

hill. The search here proved disappoint¬ 
ing. They found a few blooms, but some 
one had visited this place before them. 

“It wasn’t may-flowers I wanted up 
here, anyhow,” confessed Carrie. “I 
wanted to get up here so we could recross 
the brook on Alden’s Bridge. It is so big 
and wide. I’ll feel safe on it. Mr. Alden 
drives horses across it, doesn’t he, Teddy?” 

Teddy grinned. “Not any more, Carrie,” 
he said. “Come and have a look at it.” 

“Why, Teddy!” cried the girl. “Isn’t it 
safe?” 

They broke through clumps of bushes 
to come out on the steep bank of the brook, 
just before the bridge. Carrie’s question 
did not require an answer from Teddy; 
her eyes told her all about it. This bridge 
consisted of three large and heavy timbers, 
laid across from shore to shore, spaced a 


MAY-FLOWERS 


41 


yard or more from one another. The board 
flooring had rotted and broken away since 
Carrie had last seen the bridge. She stared 
at it in dismay. 

“We’ll have to go back,” she cried. “We 
can’t cross here. Oh dear! I am tired. I 
dread that long walk back through the pas¬ 
ture-land, It is so rough and wet. Teddy! 
Don’t dare! Oh, come back.” 

But Teddy had ventured out on one of 
the timbers and, almost before Carrie fin¬ 
ished speaking, he was over. Then he came 
backsaying, “Tryit, Louise, I’llhelpyou.” 

Louise was quite willing, but Carrie 
cried out against it, 

“Oh no! She will fall in, Teddy. The 
water looks so dangerous there. Louise! 
Let’s go back.” 

But Louise had started across. She-held 
Teddy’s hand in a startled grip. It was 


42 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

worse than she had suspected. The timber 
she walked upon was almost round. She 
gasped with relief when she was over, 
then turned to call cheerfully to Carrie. 

“It doesn’t seem dangerous, Carrie. You 
try it, too.” 

Teddy left his may-flowers with Louise 
and went back for Carrie, who was almost 
in tears. 

She was frankly afraid of it. 

“This is different, Teddy,” she mourned. 
“I was a little nervous over Dad’s bridge, 
but I am petrified with fear, now.” 

But she took off her coat and her shoes, 
and, leaving them with her may-flowers 
behind her, she crept out on the narrow 
plank on her hands and knees. Teddy went 
just before her, like a cat, sure and easy. 
Louise watched in intense anxiety. 

“Don’t touch me, Teddy,” Carrie 



She held Teddy’s hand in a startled gkip.—P age Ul 
























MAY-FLOWERS 


43 


screamed, “if you do, I’ll flop in.” She 
dared not look up. “Am I half way over?” 
she cried, her eyes glued to the timber. She 
wasn’t. She crawled along with painful 
caution: “Am I half way over yet?” 

“Just about,” answered Teddy. 

“This is where it will happen then,” she 
quavered, “I feel just like Lucy Gray. It 
seems to be miles.” 

“You’re doing fine,” urged Teddy, 
frightened lest she fall. 

Carrie was white with fear, but she 
crept on. And then she was over, and she 
sat on the grass, laughing and crying. 
Louise hovered over her, sympathetically. 

“You’d not have minded it so much, on 
your feet,” she ventured. 

“ ‘Oft have I heard of Lucy Gray,’ ” 
quoted Carrie. “Ooo! how I hate that nasty 
poem.” 


44 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

Teddy went back for her belongings. 
“You’re a terrible ’fraid cat, Carrie,” he 
told her in great relief. “You almost scared 
me, too. I was sure you’d roll off.” 

“So was I,” gasped poor Carrie. “Just 
because you are either a goat or a cat, 
Teddy Shaw, doesn’t mean that I am, too.” 

“You’re more like a baby-calf,” laughed 
Teddy. 

They all laughed then. Louise helped 
Carrie to put on her shoes. She donned 
her coat. Teddy put her may-flowers in her 
hands, and they went on home. 

“Mother,” said Teddy, “the next time 
I go out picking flowers with Carrie, we’ll 
pick pansies in the garden. That will be 
safe enough for her.” 

“Father Williams,” said Carrie, “next 
spring you won’t induce me to go may¬ 
flowering, until you build a much better 


MAY-FLOWERS 


45 

bridge. Teddy Shaw almost drowned me 
twice to-day.” 

“If I had had any idea the bridge was 
dangerous, I’d never have allowed you to 
go, Louise,” said her mother, to whom 
Carrie had reported. 

“But, Mother,” protested Louise, to 
whom Teddy was now a hero, as well as 
the wisest of boys, “Teddy crossed all right. 
So I knew the bridges were safe. I wasn’t 
afraid, after I saw him go over.” 


CHAPTER IV 


RAINY-DAY GAMES 

Louise spent many happy hours in¬ 
doors, when it rained, with her dolls, or 
books, or paints and crayons. Sometimes 
she helped Mother, and pretended to keep 
house herself. The evenings, spent with 
her father and mother, or perhaps a friend 
who had come for an evening’s visit, were 
always pleasant for Louise. Perhaps there 
were lessons to be studied or a new pic¬ 
ture to color, a doll’s dress to sew on or a 
story to read. But her favorite evening 
game, and one she could play so nicely all 
by herself, was one her mother had taught 
her, a game Mrs. Allen had played when 
she was a child. 

“Here is my button-box, Louise. Find a 

46 


RAINY-DAY GAMES 


47 


handful of pretty buttons, and set them 
here on the table in rows. Pretend they 
are your school, and have this large but¬ 
ton for the teacher.” 

Louise began the game, because her 
mother suggested it. She wasn’t sure she 
would like it. In fact, it sounded rather dull 
to her. But she became interested, first, in 
selecting the buttons. Here was a fat, pink 
button—it reminded her of Ida, who was 
certainly fat and pink. This little yellow 
button must be named Greta, for Greta 
was small with yellow hair. She chose two 
white buttons, exactly alike, for the little 
Parker twins; a brown button for Alan, 
who had dark hair and brown eyes, and 
dark skin. Annie wore a blue coat to 
school, just the color of this blue button— 
and so it went on, until Louise had selected 
a button for every child at school. She ar- 


48 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

ranged these in rows, just as they sat in 
school,—^John, Helen, Bessie, Robert, Eva 
in the back seats—and so on, down to the 
front row. The button she chose for her¬ 
self was a silver color. 

“It doesn’t look like me, and I don’t wear 
any clothes that are silver-color, but I like 
it for me, so I thought it would do,” she 
told Mrs. Allen. 

Presently she had her school complete. 
A beautiful green button with gold spots 
on it was chosen for the teacher. 

Selecting a button to be called Teddy 
was her most difficult choice. Which one 
should it be? Deep in her heart Louise 
felt it must be a very nice one. There were 
a number of odd pretty buttons to choose 
from, but, to Louise’s mind, they all looked 
like girls. 




RAINY-DAY GAMES 


49 


“Boys don’t seem to be pretty, exactly,” 
she thought. 

Then she found a black button with a 
gold star on it, and she named it “Teddy” 
at once. 

She called the roll loudly and clearly in 
the teacher’s voice, and answered “pres¬ 
ent” for each pupil. She assigned work to 
the different grades, and called the first 
grade to stand in a row by the teacher’s 
desk. She moved the pink button, the two 
white buttons, a blue one, and a red-and- 
black one forward in line. This was Grade 
One. Lizzie, in red-and-black, fell out of 
line. She turned, as if facing the pupils be¬ 
hind her, so Louise made her stand in the 
corner. The other pupils in Grade One 
recited very well, and were allowed to take 
their seats. But, here, one of the Parker 


50 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

twins disgraced herself. She rolled against 
her sister, pushing her from her seat. For 
this misconduct, she was obliged to occupy 
a second corner. 

Grade Two next took position before the 
teacher’s desk. They read in turn from the 
Second Reader (which Louise held in 
her hand and read for them) the story of 
the “Pied Piper of Hamelin,’’ in prose. 
Louise liked this story very much. She had 
the second-grade pupils read it through. 
They did it very nicely, except for Harry 
who made dreadful mistakes and had to 
remain by the teacher’s desk to read again, 
while the others in the class took their seats. 
And so it continued, Louise having no 
trouble with her fifth and sixth grade 
pupils. She let them read from her own 
Third Reader, and pretended it was the 
Fifth. 


RAINY-DAY GAMES 


51 

When recess-time came, she dismissed 
her pupils by sweeping them out in groups 
with her finger-tips. She let them play in a 
tin plate, which her mother allowed her 
to use for this occasion. So none of the 
buttons rolled away and got lost. Instead, 
they slid and rattled and rolled gayly about 
on the plate. 

The time for dismissing school was very 
interesting. Teddy and two other boys, 
Lucy, and Louise, turned south from the 
school-house. Four more “children” went 
east, across a large stretch of table that 
represented Cochran’s meadow. The 
others all turned to the north. When they 
had traveled a convenient distance from 
school, they were swept into a box Louise 
had decided to use for her button-box. 

“That is a fine game. Mother,” she cried, 
as she arose to kiss her mother “good 


52 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

night,” “I shall play it again to-morrow 
night.” 

Rainy days at school brought new 
games. The children played tit-tat-toe, and 
had conundrums and all sorts of puzzles. 
The boys did stunts with lengths of twine, 
freeing themselves from impossible-look¬ 
ing knots, and untying loops with one 
knowing pull on the right string. 

Teddy introduced a new game, one day, 
that puzzled every one. “Take a number. 
Choose any number you like, but I advise 
you to choose a small one. Double it. Add 
eight. Divide it by two. Take away the 
number you thought of first, and your 
answer’s four.” 

“Oh! How did you know, Teddy?” 

“Isn’t that queer? My answer is four, 
too.” 

“Let me try again, Teddy.” 


RAINY-DAY GAMES 


53 


“Take a number,” repeated Teddy. 
“Double it. Add four. Divide it by two. 
Take away the number you thought of 
first, and your answer is two.” 

It was a long time before some one dis¬ 
covered that the answer was always half 
the number Teddy asked them to add. 
When they set it down on paper, it was 
easy to see why. 

Out of doors, skipping and marbles 
were followed by different kinds of ball 
games: “Haley Over,” “Tickety-Up,” 
“Scrub,” and others. The favorite game 
with the girls was played against the side 
of the school-building. A girl threw the 
ball against the wall, and caught it as it 
came back. “Throw it up and catch it,” 
she said. The next act was, “Throw it up, 
clap once, and catch it. Throw it up, clap 
twice, and catch it. Throw it up, clap three 


54 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

times and catch it. Toss it up, kneel, arise, 
and catch it. Toss it up, clap hands behind 
your back and catch it. Toss it up, turn 
around and catch it.” If one missed, an¬ 
other player tried. Of course, if a player 
became too expert, it wasn’t much fun. 

There was always one day, in the late 
spring, when it seemed suddenly to be 
warm enough for Louise to go barefoot 
for perhaps an hour. She didn’t like going 
barefoot, as a rule, but on this one day it 
seemed a forecast of summer. It followed 
closely after the finding of the first violet. 
A later day, perhaps a week later, would 
come, when Louise was allowed to dip her 
bare feet in the little Cross-Road Brook, 
which flowed through Christie’s farm, and 
under the Cross-Road Bridge, then down 
over the hill to join the big brook in the 
valley. 


RAINY-DAY GAMES 


55 


The average depth of water in the 
Cross-Road Brook was just above one’s 
ankles. But it had a “deep hole” where the 
water spread into a tiny pool, about four 
feet in diameter. Here the water came up 
to one’s knees. Louise dipped her bare 
feet into the water at the Cross-Road 
Bridge, and waded down to the “deep 
hole,” where the cold water made her gasp. 
Then she ran home, dressed her feet, and 
had no further desire to wade in the deep 
hole until next spring. The little brook 
was a darling little brook in the spring¬ 
time. Louise went to sleep at night hear¬ 
ing its musical tinkle through her open 
bedroom window, and she loved it with 
all her heart. In the daytime, she sailed 
“boats” on it, smooth white chips with a 
pebble or two placed on them for passen¬ 
gers. As her boat sailed down stream, 


56 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

Louise followed it, with a long stick in her 
hand, to rescue her boat when it became 
stranded on a rock, or caught on a bit of 
grass near shore. It was fun to watch her 
boat disappear under the Cross-Road 
Bridge, then come out at the other end, 
sailing sedately along with its cargo of 
pebbles. The little brook dried up, and 
disappeared in summer. Its bed filled with 
long grass. One forgot all about it, then. 


i 


CHAPTER V 

CHUMMY 

Madge, the big collie, lay stretched out 
in the sun on the wood-shed floor, one 
morning. The wide roller door, just be¬ 
fore her, was opened to its fullest extent, 
and the sunlight flooded in, making a 
large, bright square across the floor. 
Madge’s box, at one end of the shed, was 
a big, comfortable, warm place in winter, 
packed with straw on the bottom, and with 
a roof on top. In summer, Madge didn’t 
use it much. Mrs. Allen said, “She sleeps 
in the sun all day, and barks under my 
window all night, so she doesn’t need her 
box.” 

Perhaps the big black hen in the yard 
heard Mrs. Allen’s remark: Louise de¬ 
clared she did. She hopped up on the bot- 


57 


58 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

tom step, while Louise was in the wood¬ 
shed wondering if Madge’s box wouldn’t 
make a fine doll-house for the summer. 
From the bottom step, Biddie arched her 
neck, and peered into the shed. Then she 
hopped up a second step. Now she could 
see inside easily, and she uttered a startled 
“ca-daw-cut,” at sight of Madge. Madge 
lay asleep, and paid no attention. Black 
Biddie hopped up to the door-sill now, 
stopped to survey Madge, and squawked 
“ca-daw-cut” again, in very nervous tones. 
Madge opened one eye. Louise laughed a 
little, the black hen was so funny. 

Now, it was one of Madge’s duties to 
chase the black hen from the wood-shed, 
also any other hens that came in. But this 
one seemed so frightened, and at the same 
time so full of some idea, that Louise laid 
a hand on Madge’s head to keep her quiet. 


CHUMMY 


59 


She wished to watch the invader, but found 
it difficult to keep quiet herself, for she 
laughed and laughed, as the hen crossed 
the floor. Biddie took a few steps, put her 
head on one side, peered at Madge, and 
squawked, “Ca-daw-cut! Ca-daw-cut,” 
several times in her loudest tones. She was 
the picture of nervous alarm and deter¬ 
mination. 

“If the silly thing only knew enough to 
keep quiet, and slip by without waking 
Madge—” murmured Louise, between 
chuckles. Once the hen lost several yards 
she had gained, when Madge lifted her 
head, for it frightened poor Biddie so that 
she fled to the door. But she paused in the 
opening, saw that Madge still lay quiet on 
the floor, and it gave her confidence. She 
uttered one more loud series of squawks, 
and, at the same time, took a dozen mine- 


6o SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 


ing steps across the floor, jerking her head 
sidewise to keep a watchful eye on the 
dog. She paused then, to consider. All was 
well! She saw that the dog and Louise 
were not going to molest her; so she 
walked in a dignified fashion to Madge’s 
box, peered into it, stepped inside and dis¬ 
appeared. Madge arose then, alert and 
eager, but Louise threw her arms around 
the collie’s neck. “No, Madge, you mustn’t 
touch her,’’ she cried. “Biddie wants to 
make a nest in there, I am sure. You don’t 
need the box now, and I must do without 
it, too. Mrs. Black Hen seems to want it.’’ 

Louise peeped into the box after dinner, 
but Mrs. Black Hen was gone. And, at 
the back of the box, lay a large white egg. 

Louise soon shortened the hen’s name 
to Mrs. Black. One day Mrs. Black went 
in, settled herself in the usual spot, and 


CHUMMY 


6 i 


refused to come out again. Mr. Allen re¬ 
ported to Louise that afternoon, after 
school. 

“Your pet hen has gone ‘broody,’ 
Louise. I put a setting of eggs under her.” 

Louise was delighted. This meant that 
in three weeks’ time there would be a fam¬ 
ily of little chicks. There were other fam¬ 
ilies of little chicks about the hen-yard, but 
this one seemed to promise more interest to 
Louise, because she had watched the brave 
hen make her nest in the face of danger. 
She marked on a calendar the date when 
the chicks must hatch, and waited im¬ 
patiently. Mrs. Black came off her nest 
every morning for food and water. 

Now Madge was annoyed to think one 
of those noisy troublesome hens had stolen 
her box. Worse still, the hen was upheld in 
her wickedness by the people in the house. 


62 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 


Madge knew it must be all right, but she 
felt very much disturbed about it, just the 
same. The first few times Mrs. Black left 
her nest, Madge declined to allow her to 
come back, until the hen’s loud angry 
squawks brought Mrs. Allen from the 
house, to her rescue. 

“Madge,” exclaimed her mistress, 
“shame on you! The eggs will get cold if 
you keep the hen too long off her nest.” 

Madge knew she had done wrong, but 
for several days she did it, again and again, 
until finally Mrs. Allen gave her such a 
severe scolding that she hung her head in 
shame. 

But, one day, Madge did even worse 
than this. When Mrs. Black went off the 
nest for her daily ration, Madge went into 
the box, and lay down. Poor doggie! She 
felt aggrieved somehow, over that box. 


CHUMMY 63 

She had not wanted it until Biddie Black 
took possession of it. Nevertheless, it was 
her box, and she felt it should be left va¬ 
cant for her until such time as she should 
need it. The hen, to Madge’s mind, was 
distinctly an intruder; so she lay in her 
box, nervous and uneasy, for she knew she 
was doing wrong. Then the black hen 
came back, poked her head in the box, and 
instantly withdrew it, calling for Mrs. 
Allen at the top of her lungs. At least, this 
seemed to be so. And Mrs. Allen in the 
kitchen heard her and ran out to the shed. 

She soon discovered Madge in the box, 
and hustled her out of there at once, and 
looked inside, expecting to find the eggs 
a broken mess. But the nest was at the back 
of the box. Madge, uneasy of conscience, 
and knowing she should not be there, had 
lain down just inside the door. Two eggs 


I 


64 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

at the edge of the nest were broken; the 
others were all safe. The black hen never 
missed the two which Mrs. Allen removed 
at once from the nest. A relieved and 
happy hen settled herself once more in her 
nest on eleven eggs, and thought trium¬ 
phant thoughts about the dog, no doubt. 

Madge concluded, after this episode, 
to let the black intruder alone. She did not 
like the situation, but she decided she must 
make the best of it. 

So the little chicks hatched without more 
trouble,—darling little fluffy balls of yel¬ 
low. Louise loved them, every one. She 
often fed them herself. When they were 
large enough, they were moved from 
Madge’s box to a coop in the hen-yard. 
Louise spent a busy hour, thinking up 
eleven names to bestow upon them, but it 



CHUMMY 


6S 

was a useless endeavor, after all. For once 
named, they still looked exactly alike. 
Louise could not tell Fluffy from Teeny, 
nor Trixie from Mother’s Pet. Chummy, 
she declared she knew, because he was 
always the first to run to her, when she 
came into the hen-yard to feed them. 

One was drowned in the pan of water 
one morning, but there were no other cas¬ 
ualties. “Fortunately, it wasn’t Chummy,” 
said Louise. “I think it was Pansy.” 

The little chicks, as they grew, con¬ 
tinued to be very tame and seemed to know 
Louise. They often followed her about the 
hen-yard, one or two, or more of them. 
Once she let them all out, through the 
gate, to see if they would follow her. This 
proved to be a mistake, for they followed 
her at first in a straggling line, then, one 


66 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 


by one, they dropped away, and most of 
them found their way into Mrs. Allen’s 
garden before Louise missed them. 

Chummy followed her faithfully, how¬ 
ever, and so, although they were all re¬ 
stored to the hen-yard, he alone was al¬ 
lowed to get out, once in a while. Louise 
grew very fond of him. She even held him 
in her lap. She invited him into the kitchen 
once, but he declined this invitation. He 
grew bigger, and pin feathers began to 
give place to real feathers. 

One day, Louise, unaware of her fol¬ 
lower this time, ran over to Mrs. Shaw’s, 
with Chummy trailing after her. She ran 
through the gate and into the house. 
Chummy, close behind, entered the gate¬ 
way just as Teddy’s dog came around the 
house to investigate the visitors. He 
smelled chicken, spied Chummy, and 


CHUMMY, 


67 

made a swift jump. Chummy was fright¬ 
ened, and squawked his alarm. His half- 
grown wings flapped wildly, as his long 
yellow legs carried him across the ground 
to an apple-tree. He flopped desperately 
to the lowest bough, and a second effort 
carried him higher, to safety. 

Louise, coming from the house a little 
later, found a badly scared chicken, chirp¬ 
ing and squawking in the apple-tree, and 
an excited dog, barking underneath. After 
that. Chummy was confined to the hen- 
yard. “He is getting too venturesome,” 
said Louise. 


CHAPTER VI 


ROSE HAS THE MEASLES 

Away in a far-off city, a little girl, who 
had been very ill with measles, lay back in 
a big armchair, while Mother talked to 
the doctor. Her mother’s voice sounded 
worried. “She is so thin and pale and list¬ 
less,” said Mother. 

“Fresh air and sunshine is what she 
needs. Keep her out doors all you can. 
Why not take her to the country some¬ 
where? The change would be very bene¬ 
ficial,” said the doctor. 

So Mother talked about the matter with 
Rose’s father, later on. “Rose seems to 
gain so slowly,” said Mother. “The doc¬ 
tor advises a change. Do you think we 
might send her to visit her Aunt Grace for 
a month?” 


68 


ROSE HAS THE MEASLES 69 

“A good idea!” agreed Rose’s father. 
“We’ll have her stay all summer. It will 
do her a world of good, I know.” 

“I’ll write to her Aunt Grace at once,” 
said Mother, with relief in her voice. 

Louise lived on “Rural Route Number 
Three.” The postman left the mail in a 
box at the gate. Sometimes Mrs. Allen for¬ 
got to look for the mail, and Louise found 
it in the box after school. So it happened 
that, one afternoon, she carried a letter 
triumphantly into the house. 

“Here, it is for you. Mother,” she said. 
“And I am sure it is from Aunt Helen.” 

Mrs. Allen opened it, and read it out 
loud, with Louise standing by her. The 
little girl’s expression changed as her 
mother read. She looked first sympathetic, 
then sorrowful, then tense and eager, and 
lastly full of delight. 


70 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

“Oh, Mother!” she cried. “Darling 
little Rose. May she really come? I haven’t 
seen her since she was a baby. Oh! I 
hope—” and here Louise burst into tears. 

“My dear child,” soothed Mrs. Allen. 
“Of course, she is coming. There! Don’t 
cry. I never saw you so excited before.” 

“Mummy, she is five years old now, isn’t 
she?” 

“Nearly six. This is May. She has a 
birthday in July.” 

“Will you write at once. Mother?” 

“My dear! This very minute,” laughed 
Mrs. Allen, and she did. 

Louise watched for the postman on his 
return trip, and gave him the letter. It 
went off on the early train next morning, 
bound for the city. 

And so a frail little girl went aboard 
the train at the big city station, a few days 


ROSE HAS THE MEASLES 71 


later, a very excited little girl, who waved 
“Good-by” to Mother and Dad and little 
Laddie, tears mixed through her smiles, 
A kind friend, traveling in the same direc¬ 
tion, was to look after Rose. It was a night- 
train, and Rose was to sleep on it. What a 
wonderful experience! The kind lady soon 
coaxed her to happiness, asked all sorts of 
gay questions about the farm, and Louise, 
and Aunt Grace. 

“Louise is my cousin,” explained Rose. 
“I haven’t seen her since I was a baby, and 
I don’t remember that. She is three years 
older’n I am. I am going to be six in two 
more months, and she will be nine in one 
more month. It is almost the same month 
for our birthdays.” 

The porter came to prepare Rose’s bed. 
She watched with great interest while this 
was going on. The seats where she and her 


72 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

motherly friend had been sitting were 
pulled together and covered with a mat¬ 
tress, sheets, pillows, and covers. Rose’s 
eyes were very wide with surprise and in¬ 
terest. When curtains were hung up be¬ 
fore it to make it into a tiny room. Rose 
was delighted. She asked to be allowed to 
go to bed at once. The kind lady helped 
her prepare for the night, and tucked Rose 
in under the covers, with a good-night kiss. 
She put Peggy, the doll, in beside Rose, 
for Peggy, it seems, had had measles when 
Rose did, and must go to the country with 
her. So Rose lay there and admired the 
cunning electric lights, one at the foot 
and one at the head of her bed. It seemed 
very exciting and pleasant to feel the train 
rolling on and on through the night, get¬ 
ting farther and farther from Mother— 
here Rose blinked several times, and de- 



ROSE HAS THE MEASLES 


73 


cided not to think of that—getting nearer 
and nearer to the farm. There were Louise 
and Aunt Grace, and Uncle Don—Oh, 
and Uncle Jim. Her thoughts grew very 
confused and dreamy. 

Later on, the kind lady poked her head 
in between Rose’s curtains, and found the 
little girl fast asleep. She tucked the covers 
in around her, and turned off the lights, 
and Rose did not waken until it was nearly 
breakfast time. That was such fun. They 
had breakfast in the dining-car, to Rose’s 
great delight. Everything was new and in¬ 
teresting to her. “The water in my glass 
is dancing,” she cried. What fun to watch 
the changing landscape, as she break¬ 
fasted! They had to hurry, though, the 
Junction was so near. Here they must leave 
their train, and the lady must go one way, 
the little girl another. Rose began to feel 



74 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

lonely, and her face became very sober. 
But the kind lady smiled, as they stepped 
off the train. She knew there was a pleas¬ 
ant surprise for a little girl, here at the 
Junction. A young man hurried up to 
them, as they descended the steps, and said 
with such a glad smile: 

“Mrs. Crandall, isn’t this fine—’’ but 
Rose interrupted here. She didn’t intend to 
be rude. She was just too surprised and 
delighted to think. 

“Uncle Jim!” she screamed, and threw 
herself into his arms, almost crying with 
happiness. So she boarded the next train 
with Uncle Jim. He did not seem quite so 
happy as Rose. Indeed, he looked at her 

t 

with astonishment and sorrow, for this was 
not the plump, rosy child he had seen on 
his last visit to her city home. This was a 
pale, thin little girl, and the little hand he 


ROSE HAS THE MEASLES 75 

took in his was frail and white. He held it 
tightly, smiled down at her happy little 
face, and talked to her about the farm. He 
told her how happy Louise was over her 
coming, and told her about Aunt Grace 
and Uncle Don. Rose heard about the 
pet chickens and Chummy, about Lulu, 
the cat, and Madge, the pretty collie. It 
seemed a very short time before Uncle 
Jim said, “And here we are at the station.” 
Rose peered out the window eagerly, as 
the train slowed. 

“Do you see Louise, Uncle Jim?” she 
asked. 

But before he had time to look for 
Louise, the train had stopped, and they 
were getting off. Almost in front of them, 
Rose saw a brown-haired rosy little girl, 
with a tall lady, who looked like Mother, 
holding her hand. The brown-haired little 


76 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

girl ran up to them and put her arms 
around Rose, 

“Here she is, Louise,” cried Uncle Jim. 
“Rose with her roses all gone.” 

Rose, excited and eager, but a little shy, 
was kissed and hugged and exclaimed 
over, and led away from the station to 
where the horse and buggy waited. 

“Rose, darling,” cried Louise, in ec¬ 
stasy over this dear, thin, pale, little cousin. 
“We couldn’t come for you in the car, be¬ 
cause Mother is afraid to drive it while the 
roads are so muddy. And we thought you 
might enjoy the buggy ride, because you 
have never had one, have you?” 

Rose never had. She liked it very much. 
She said, “It is more exciting than driving 
in a car. I never was so close to a horse 
before. Isn’t Uncle Jim coming?” 

“Not now. Rosy posy,” he said, “Good- 


ROSE HAS THE MEASLES 


77 


by! I shall perhaps come out to see you, 
this evening. Why, you have found some 
roses already!” For there was a little spot 
of pink on each pale cheek. 

On the way to the farm. Rose held 
Louise by the hand, and watched Aunt 
Grace a little shyly. When Louise said, 
“There is our house. Rose,” she looked 
eagerly ahead. 

“Oh! It is a beautiful house, isn’t it?” 
she gasped. 

It was beautiful, thought Louise 
proudly, in the morning sunlight, with its 
tall elms in front, its pretty stretch of lawn, 
roses in a hedge at the foot of the garden, 
the smooth driveway around the side, the 
big barns at the back. Louise felt very glad 
that Rose liked it. 

As they drove into the farmyard, Madge 
rushed to meet them, wagging her tail 


78 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

and leaping up as though she meant to get 
in the buggy. Rose was a little afraid of 
her, so Mr. Allen lifted her down and 
carried her to the door, bidding Madge to 
keep quiet. 

“What a light-weight you are,” said Mr. 
Allen, who was her Uncle Don. “We must 
feed you a steady stream of milk and 
cream, and see if we cannot make you fat 
and big and rosy,” and he carried Rose 
into the house. What an immense place it 
seemed to her! The rooms were so large, 
the fireplace so big, the veranda a great 
wide one. Rose liked it all very much. She 
wanted to be shown all over the house at 
once. 

She and Louise went up-stairs to remove 
hats and coats, and Aunt Grace followed 
with Rose’s suitcase and bag. She took 
from the suitcase a plain, cool little dress 


ROSE HAS THE MEASLES 79 

for Rose to wear, and Louise dressed her 
little cousin in it. 

“Now you are ready for play, darling,” 
said Louise. 

“She must not play much, to-day, 
Louise,” warned Mrs. Allen. “Let her 
rest all that she can.” 

“I shall see to that. Mother,” nodded 
Louise, whose heart was set on doing 
everything that was best for Rose, to make 
her well again. 

So the two little girls went off, hand in 
hand, to inspect the big house, every room, 
up-stairs and down, the long hallways and 
entries, and, finally, the kitchen, where 
Mrs. Allen, and a big girl she called Sadie, 
were busy preparing the noon dinner. 
Louise wisely left attic and basement to be 
explored later, and put Rose in the big 
kitchen rocker to rest. 


8o SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 


Rose was not too tired to talk. As her 
shyness wore of¥, she chattered like a little 
magpie, and whenever she stopped for 
breath, Louise took her turn. Mrs. Allen 
laughed at them, and Sadie declared it 
made her dizzy to listen to them. 

Dinner found Rose with little appetite. 
She was still too excited to feel hungry. 
So a little while after, Mrs. Allen said Rose 
must lie down and rest for a while. Rose 
did not like this idea at all. She wished to 
go out doors, and also to see the barns. 

“But you will have all summer for the 
barns. Rose dear,” said Louise kindly. 
“Come up-stairs with me, and we’ll both 
lie down, and rest a while.” 

Half an hour later, Louise came tip¬ 
toeing down-stairs alone. Rose had fallen 
fast asleep. 


CHAPTER VII 


NEW IMPRESSIONS FOR ROSE 

Mrs. Allen decided that Louise must 
stay home from school for the rest of the 
week, to be with Rose until the little new¬ 
comer’s shyness quite wore off, and until 

$ 

she learned her way about, and felt at 
home. Usually Louise disliked to miss a 
day from school, but this time she was 
pleased with Mrs. Allen’s decision. So was 
Rose, for she had proceeded at once to love 
her Cousin Louise with all her heart. So, 
on the morning after her arrival, she and 
Louise went off to inspect the barns, and 
other points of interest. 

They stopped first in the wood-shed, 
such a big wide place, almost empty now. 

“We fill that part with wood every fall,” 
said Louise. 

8 i 


82 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 


“Why?” Rose asked, puzzled. 

“To burn in the kitchen stove,” Louise 
told her. 

“Oh!” Rose inspected the wood that was 
left. “There is such a big pile there now,” 
she said. 

But Louise laughed, and did not seem 
to think so. 

They looked inside Madge’s box, where 
Mrs. Black had hatched her chickens, 
then Rose asked to go to the hen-yard to 
see them all. But Lulu, the big cat, came in 
the door, and, after Rose had admired her 
enough, Louise told of the little kittens she 
had found in the barn. 

“They are gone now,” she finished, “I 
gave one to a boy named Teddy, and one 
to a girl at school.” 

“Is the hole still in the haymow?” asked 
Rose. “Let us see it. Shall we?” 


NEW IMPRESSIONS FOR ROSE 83 

So they went out to the barn. Rose was 
charmed with this place. It was as nice as 
the wood-shed, and both sunny and warm. 

“And it smells so good,” she said. “Isn’t 
it fun to jump in the hay? Do the cows 
really eat this hay? I should think the 
sharp ends might poke in their tongues. I 
couldn’t eat it. Where is Lulu’s nest?” 

Louise found herself laughing often at 
Rose’s funny little speeches. She took Rose 
up in the haymow to see a hen’s nest, too. 
They jumped down into the soft hay, and 
lay there for a few minutes, looking up¬ 
ward, so it happened that Rose discovered 
another strange thing. “Birds live up there 
at the top of the barn,” she cried to Louise. 
“They have nests up there. I see them.” 

“It is a fine place for a nest,” said Louise. 
“Better than a tree, for the rain and wind 
cannot reach them, and Mrs. Pussycat 


84 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

cannot get at them. They are barn swal¬ 
lows. Sometimes I find a little speckled 
piece of shell off one of their eggs, when 
the little birds hatch. The eggs are tiny 
little white ones, with some ‘speckles’ of 
brown on them.” 

“Isn’t that lovely!” breathed Rose. 

“Come and see where the kittens lived,” 
cried Louise, jumping up again. 

They found the long tunnel in the hay, 
but Rose was afraid to creep into it. 

Next, they visited the cow-stable, empty 
now, and they peeped into the horse-barn, 
too. Then Rose asked to see the chickens, 
so they went to the hen-yard. Here Rose 
became acquainted with over one hundred 
new friends. Mrs. Black proved very in¬ 
teresting. She had left her family, some 
time before this, and they had become in¬ 
dependent young birds, able to take care 


NEW IMPRESSIONS FOR ROSE 85 

of themselves. Only one was Louise able 
to point out. “That one is Chummy,” she 
said. “The others mix among the other 
chickens, and I can’t tell them apart. Here! 
Chummy, Chummy.” 

He came, running, and ate a bit of 
bread-crust from Louise’s hand. He bal¬ 
anced himself on her knee, and Rose ad¬ 
mired him greatly. Louise gave her a wee 
bit of bread to feed him, and she held it 
out to him on the palm of her hand, but 
dropped it hastily when he stretched out 
his neck to take it. 

“I was afraid he might bite me,” she ex¬ 
plained to Louise. 

When they left the hen-yard, they went 
to see the pigs, but Rose vowed she did not 
care for pigs. Louise felt sorry for the poor 
things, because they had not won Rose’s 
regard. 


86 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

“They can’t help being homely,” she 
explained. 

The orchard was a beautiful sight, just 
now; the apple-trees were breaking into 
bloom, the cherries almost through bloom¬ 
ing, and the plums were lovely. Both little 
girls admired them for a long time. 

“This tree in the middle is a big crab- 
apple-tree. It has snows on it, too,” said 
Louise. 

“Snows?” questioned Rose. 

“Apples, dear. Snow apples. They are 
nice sweet apples.” 

“Do they grow with the crabs?” 

“Yes.” 

“Two kinds of apples on one tree?” 

“Yes.” 

“Oh, I didn’t know they could!” 

“These trees are Wealthies,” went on 
Louise. “And this one is mine.” 


NEW IMPRESSIONS FOR ROSE 87 

But Rose had made a new discovery. 

“What are those little houses,” she 
asked, “just like a doll-house?” She started 
forward “—but no windows. Aren’t they 
funny?” 

Louise sprang after her. “They’re bee¬ 
hives, Rose. Don’t go close. We just keep 
a few. They make honey for us.” 

“Oh! Tame bees. Do they sting?” 

“My! I guess they do,” cried Louise, 
“bad stings. I have been stung twice. Don’t 
go near the hives. It hurts, dreadfully.” 

Rose backed away. She did not wish to 
get a bit closer. Beyond the orchard the 
children stopped, hand in hand. Here 
were meadows sloping gently downward 
to the pasture-lands. 

“And there is water down there,” ex¬ 
claimed Rose. “Is it a river?” 

“It is a big brook, nearly as big as a 


88 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 


river, in the spring,” said Louise. “In the 
summer, it gets much smaller, and we can 
wade across it, then. When you feel a little 
stronger, some day I must take you down 
there to see it.” 

Beyond the brook, a wooded section 
stretched upward. It was very pretty. Near 
the brook, on the other side in a clearing, 
were two pretty trees standing alone, side 
by side. 

“Do you see them. Rose?” Louise 
pointed to them. “Aren’t they pretty? See 
how white their trunks look. They are 
birch-trees. The larger one is Hiawatha, 
and the other Minnehaha. I named them 
from a story in my school reader. I will 
read it to you sometime, if you like.” 

However lovely the Big Brook looked. 
Rose liked the little Cross-Road Brook bet- 
ter. It was such a little streamlet, she could 


NEW IMPRESSIONS FOR ROSE 89 

stand with a foot on either bank, and catch 
the boats Louise sailed down to her. She 
and Louise inspected all the near points 
of interest along its course. Rose sailed 
a boat under the bridge, and down across 
the deep hole, and here she came to grief. 
She reached for her boat, eager to take it 
back to the bridge, to let it sail under 
again. 

“Be careful. Rose,” cried Louise. “You 
will lose your balance.” 

“What is my balance?” asked Rose, 
looking up. Her foot slipped, and splash! 
She promptly fell in. She screamed with 
fright, on her knees in the water. Louise 
instantly popped in after her, in great fear 
lest the ducking injure her frail little 
cousin. And two very wet children rushed 
home to Mrs. Allen, Rose in tears, and 
Louise pale with fright. But Rose, made 


90 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

warm and dry in a few moments, suffered 
no ill effects from her ducking. “And I 
know now what my balance means,” she 
said, with a little giggle. “I suppose it is 
still back there in the deep hole.” 


CHAPTER VIII 


A NEW GAME 

When the day came for Louise to go to 
school, and leave Rose at home with Mrs. 
Allen, both little girls felt very much in¬ 
clined to cry. Louise feared Rose would 
be lonely without her, and poor Rose had 
very much the same idea. She stood on the 
veranda and watched Louise and Teddy 
as they went on and on, until they disap¬ 
peared over the brow of the hill. 

“If I watched long enough,” murmured 
Rose, “I s’pose I’d see them come up that 
other hill, after a while, but I don’t care 
to watch. They would be such little specks, 
then.” 

She wandered around to the back yard, 
then in through the wood-shed to the 


91 


92 


SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 


kitchen, a very lonesome-looking little girl. 
Her Aunt Grace came from the pantry, 
and smiled a little at the sight of Rose’s 
doleful face. 

“You are just the girl I wished to see,” 
she remarked cheerfully. “Would you like 
to make me some cookies?” 

“Oh, yes!” cried Rose. “I should love 
to.” 

She followed Mrs. Allen into the pan¬ 
try. 

“But you have them all done, haven’t 
you?” she said, surveying the pans of 
nicely-cut cookies, ready for the oven. 

“Not all,” said Mrs. Allen. “See! I have 
left two bits of dough on the board, and I 
want you to make me two nice little cooky 
men, for two nice little girls I know. Here 
is the rolling-pin. Use this little cutter to 
make their heads. Here are currants for 


A NEW GAME 


93 

eyes, and cinnamon bark for noses and 
mouths.” 

So Rose had a fine time there. She rolled 
out the dough, with Mrs. Allen’s help, cut 
the heads, used a larger cutter for the 
bodies, and rolled strips of dough for arms 
and legs and necks. Then it was such fun 
decorating them. Rose made currant eyes, 
and cinnamon noses and mouths. She put 
rows of currant buttons on their coats, 
made pockets of the cinnamon bark, put 
a currant rosette on each of the four slip¬ 
pers, and sprinkled sugar over the cooky 
men. Mrs. Allen placed them in a pan, and 
put it in the oven, where they stayed for 
ten minutes, while Rose stood on one foot 
and then on the other before the oven door, 
waiting for them. When they came out, 
nicely browned and puffed up, she was de¬ 
lighted with them. 


94 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

“We’ll have them for supper, Aunt 
Grace, shall we? ’Cause Louise will be 
home then.” 

So they were put away on the pantry 
shelf until supper-time. 

Then Rose ran errands for Mrs. Allen. 
She went down in the cellar to get potatoes. 
Then down again for a big turnip. She 
ran out to the mail box, when the postman 
came, and brought in a paper and two let¬ 
ters. She went over to Mrs. Shaw’s, with a 
plate of hot cookies, and over there she was 
introduced to the dearest family of pup¬ 
pies ever seen. As she admired them, she 
told Mrs. Shaw all about her own dog, 
Rufus, and so a half hour flew by before 
she knew it. When she returned home, it 
was dinner-time. 

After dinner she had a short nap, and 
when she awoke she dressed Peggy, and 



So Rose had a fine time.-P aye 93 . 



















































































































































A NEW GAME 


95 


took her with Hortense in the doll buggy 
for a ride up and down the veranda. 

Carrie Williams came in to see Mrs. 
Allen, and Rose was deeply interested in 
her. Carrie admired Rose’s pretty curls, 
and thought her a very sweet little girl. She 
begged permission to take Rose home with 
her. 

“Just for an hour,’’ said Aunt Grace. So 
Rose ran off happily with Carrie. She liked 
to visit, and Carrie knew how to amuse 
small girls. She showed Rose the turkeys, 
and her canary bird, and the pet rabbits. 
Rose fed the rabbits each a bit of carrot, 
and laughed to see them wrinkle their 
funny noses. 

The hour seemed to pass very quickly, 
and Carrie walked part way home with 
her. Rose ran the rest of the way. She 
wished to reach home before Louise came 


96 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

from school. Then she sat on the veranda 
with Madge, for she and Madge were quite 
friendly now, and in a very short time she 
spied Louise coming over the hill. 

“Good!” cried Rose, and rushed off to 
meet her. 

So the time had passed quickly after all, 
and Rose was busy until supper-time tell¬ 
ing Louise all about her happy day. They 
ate their cooky men for supper, although 
Louise said she considered them much too 
handsome to be eaten. 

After supper they thought of a new 
game. Louise came up the veranda steps 
with her arm over her face, pretending that 
she was crying. She knocked at the door 
and Rose opened it at once. 

' “I’m a poor little girl,” said Louise, 
weeping. 

“What do you want, here?” asked Rose. 


A NEW GAME 


97 

“I want something to eat. I am so-o-o 
hungry,” sobbed Louise. 

* 

“Why don’t you go home to your 
mother, then?” Rose asked. 

“I can’t find my mother. I’ve lost her,” 
replied Louise, with fresh sobs. 

“Why, I’m your mother,” cried Rose, 
in such a warm, glad, welcoming way, 
and then she and Louise threw their arms 
around each other, and hugged and kissed, 
in great delight over their happy reunion. 

Rose liked this game so much that she 
decided they must play it every afternoon 
as Louise came in the door from school. 
Teddy heard them, on several occasions, 
and thought it very funny. So one after¬ 
noon when they were on the veranda he 
teased the little girls, standing before the 
house. 

“I’m a poo-o-or little girl,” he shouted, 


98 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

and then he sobbed immense sobs, and 
mopped quantities of imaginary tears off 
his face with his cap, and apparently the 
cap became so wet he must wring it out. 
He annoyed Rose so much that she 
shouted at him, “Go home, Teddy Shaw! 
You should be ashamed of yourself. I will 
make Madge bite you.” 

Teddy, pretending to be in terror, raced 
home, and slammed the gate, then leaned 
over it to call: “Hi! Rose. Tm a poo-oo-or 
little girl,” and he wept, loudly. 

Rose rushed across the road, and reach¬ 
ing the gate shook it violently, while Teddy 
ran for the house, pretending to be in fear 
of his life. He paused on the steps to shout, 
“Why, I’m your mother,” and dashed in 
the house. 

So, after that, the game was discontin- 


A NEW GAME 


99 


ued except when the little girls knew 
Teddy was not in sight. 

Now Rose liked Teddy very much, but 
he had annoyed her dreadfully, by making 
fun of her game. Louise didn’t mind 
Teddy’s teasing. She was used to it, and 
thought him rather funny, but Rose did 
not consider him funny at all. Teddy kept 
up his teasing. It was no use trying to tease 
Louise; she only laughed and enjoyed it. 
But to slip up behind Rose, and whisper, 
“I’m a poor little girl, A-hoo—!” was great 
fun, for Rose usually turned on him like 
a little tiger. This gave Teddy much 
amusement. So one morning, on the way 
to school, Louise scolded him very severely 
for it. She told him he was a naughty boy 
to tease and annoy little Rose so much. 

Teddy felt really ashamed. He was one 



loo SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 


of the most kind-hearted of boys, and 
hadn’t realized how much he plagued 
Rose. So, although he laughed at Louise, 
and pretended to think her scolding was 
a joke, yet he decided he must stop teasing 
the little cousin. He even concluded to do 
something to please her, by way of making 
amends. The very next day he appeared at 
Louise’s house with a half-dozen wild- 
strawberry stalks, each one bearing two 
or three ripe berries, the first of the season. 
He gave this little offering to Rose, who 
took them from him doubtfully. She looked 
at him with suspicion. 

“What are they?” she asked. 

“Strawberries,” he said, in surprise. Had 
this child never seen strawberries? 

“You are telling fibs, Teddy Shaw,” she 
said severely. “They are much too small 
to be strawberries.” 

<' f V 

Vt !■ 


A NEW GAME 


lOI 


“But they really are, Rose,” said Louise. 
“Wild ones. She has never seen wild straw¬ 
berries before,” she explained to Teddy. 
“Where did you find them? They’re lovely 
ones. Taste one. Rose.” 

Rose did. She tasted several. She gave 
some to Louise, and offered a stalk to 
Teddy, but he refused them. 

“I must save some for Aunt Grace, 
too,” Rose said with decision, eating two 
or three more. 

“Will you tell us where they grow, 
Teddy?” begged Louise. 

“Along the railroad track, just this side 
of the culvert,” said Teddy. “There’ll be 
lots in your hayfield soon, along your lane 
fence. I saw them, but they are green yet. 
Next week you may get plenty of them.” 

It was difhcult for Rose to believe that 
they grew wild. She ate them all, and then 


102 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

felt mournful because she hadn’t saved one 
for Aunt Grace. 

“Never mind, Rose,” said Teddy, sti¬ 
fling his desire to say funny things to her, 
“you shall pick your Auntie a whole cup¬ 
ful, next week.” 


CHAPTER IX 


UNCLE JIM’S VISIT 

Uncle Jim had been out to the farm 
several times since Rose arrived, but only 
for a few hours at a time. It was nearly 
three weeks after her arrival when he came 
out for a longer visit. Then he drove out 
to the farm one Friday evening, and an¬ 
nounced that he was going to stay until 
Monday morning. Everybody was de¬ 
lighted. Rose shrieked, “Good! Two whole 
days? What shall we do?” 

“Shall we go to the Park, Rose?” asked 
Uncle Jim teasingly, “or the Beach?” Be¬ 
cause he knew there was no Park and no 
Beach near enough to visit. 

But Rose took him seriously. “We must 
go to the Beach,” she cried. “Louise prom- 


103 


104 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

ised to take me there. It will be so awf’ly 
nice, if you are there, too.” 

“Explain this, Louise,” begged Uncle 
Jim. “Did you promise to take this skinny 
little girl to any Beach? Don’t you know 
that even the tiniest of breakers would 
wash her away?” 

“No, it wouldn’t,” declared Rose. “I’m 
bushels fatter than I was. And I am getting 
some roses, too.” 

“You are, for a fact,” laughed Uncle 
Jim. “But where is this Beach?” 

“She means the brook,” Louise began, 
and Rose interrupted to say, “Not the 
brook where I lost my balance, but the 
big brook.” 

“Then we shall inspect it to-morrow, 
and see if it has a Beach,” promised Uncle 
Jim. 

Saturday morning Louise awoke early 


UNCLE JIM’S VISIT 


105 

to find Rose sitting up in bed, determinedly 
rubbing the sleepiness from her eyes. 
Louise pulled her back on the pillow. 
“Why are you up, Rose?” she asked. 

“I am thinking about my bathing-suit. 
I wonder if Mother packed it,” said Rose. 
She slid out from her warm covers to the 
floor. Louise followed, yawning. 

“You don’t need a bathing-suit to-day, 
dear,” she said. “We shall wade. It is still 
too cold for swimming, I think. But you 
may wear my suit, if you like. I don’t think 
Aunt Helen packed yours, for I didn’t see 
it when Mother unpacked your things.” 

The little girls dressed quickly, for 
Rose was anxious about her bathing-suit. 
“It isn’t too cold to swim now, Louise,” 
she said. “Teddy swimmed. He told us 
so.” 

“He always does, early, before the water 


io6 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 


gets warm. Mother will tell you it is too 
cold yet, for you and me.” 

When they went down-stairs, however. 
Rose at once spoke to Aunt Grace about 
her bathing-suit. Had there been one in 
her suitcase or bag? 

“Not a sign of one,” declared Aunt 
Grace, “but if there were a dozen, you 
shouldn’t go in the water to-day, dear. It is 
far too cold. You and Louise may dip your 
feet in the water, but no swimming for two 
weeks, yet.” 

So Rose reluctantly gave up the idea of 
bathing, for a time, but begged Aunt 
Grace to write Mother, asking for the 
bathing-suit, “because I shall need it, when 
the days get warmer.” 

The expedition to the brook took place 
after the noon dinner. Teddy was included, 
at Rose’s request. 


UNCLE JIM.’S VISIT 


107 


“He might find us some more straw¬ 
berries,” she said. 

They walked down the long slope from 
the house, across pasture-land, through 
brush and groves of young trees, and came 
to the brookside, where the bank was bor¬ 
dered with great lichen-covered rocks, that 
sloped down gently till their sides went 
under water. Here, the brook fell over a 
ledge, some four feet high, in a tiny Niag¬ 
ara. Rose was delighted, and admired the 
Falls with enthusiasm. She sat on a large 
rock, and pulled off her shoes and stock¬ 
ings, thrusting her toes in the water. “Ow!” 
she said, and drew them out. 

“It’s a little chilly. Rose, isn’t it?” 
grinned Teddy. 

“Did you really swim in it, Teddy?” 
asked Rose. 

“Yes, but not for long,” Teddy admit- 


io8 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 


ted. “Five minutes was enough for me.” 

Louise undressed her feet now, and 
stepped into the water. It felt like ice, but 
she stood still, where it was ankle deep. 
Rose promptly stepped in, too, nearly to 
her knees, then out again as promptly, with 
a gasp. 

“I like to warm my feet on these nice 
smooth rocks,” she said. “The rocks feel 
hot, Louise.” 

“The sun heats them,” replied Louise. 
“Come here, and see the fishes around my 
feet.” 

Rose saw, and tried to catch one, but 
only succeeded in scaring them away. 
Then Louise led them to a quiet, sunny 
little bay, between two rocky capes, and 
showed her a number of water-spiders 
darting over the surface of the water. The 
girls next saw that Teddy and Uncle Jim 


UNCLE JIM’S VISIT 


109 


were busy with knives and freshly cut 
pieces of alder bushes, 

“I believe they’re making whistles,” 
Louise said. “Let’s dress our feet.” 

So stockings and shoes were pulled on, 
and the little girls went to inspect the 
whistles. Uncle Jim was busy on two at 
once, and Teddy was making a third. 

“The bark is fine now, for whistles,” 
said Teddy, as he and Uncle Jim worked 
on. They pounded the whistles with the 
backs of their knives, 

“Why do you do that?” asked Rose. 
“To loosen the bark,” Louise told her. 
“It doesn’t loosen very well,” growled 
Teddy. “Now we know why people say, 
‘As tight as the bark to a tree.’ ” 

Uncle Jim laughed. “I have this one 
out,” he said, as he drew the bark carefully 
off the stick inside. He cut a small strip off 


iio SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 


this stick, which was about four inches 
long, and after cutting a diamond-shaped 
opening in the back, near the top, he 
pushed the stick inside it again, then tried 
to blow it. It produced a thin high note, 
and Rose thought it simply wonderful. 
Uncle Jim went to work on the other, but 
it was not a success. And Teddy tore the 
bark on his, and spoiled it. 

“I made good ones earlier in the spring,” 
he said. “The bark was looser, then, with 
the sap beginning to circulate.” 

So the whistles were given up. Uncle 
Jim gave the one he had made to Louise, 
and she passed it promptly to Rose. 

“I have had some nice ones, every 
spring,” she explained, “and Rose has 
never had any.” 

So Rose blew it, till she tired of it and 
lost it. 


UNCLE JIM'S VISIT 


III 


“Let’s go up the brook to Jimmie’s 
Rock,” suggested Teddy. 

“Where is it? Why do you call it that?” 
asked Rose. 

“It isn’t far from here,” said Louise, as 
they started off. “Mr. Jimmie Cochran’s 
meadow slopes down to the brook on the 
other side, and the rock is on his bank. So 
the boys always call it Jimmie’s Rock. The 
water is deep there. Sometimes the boys 
dive off the rock.” 

They walked along the brookside for 
some time, and almost at the same instant 
Uncle Jim and Teddy cried “Jack-in-the* 
Pulpits.” 

“Oh, hurry. Rose!” coaxed Louise. 
“Let’s see them.” 

Rose hurried. “Jack-in-the-Pulpits!” It 
sounded like something queer. It was 
queer. Louise showed her, bending over 


112 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 


one in delight, a straight thick stem, bear¬ 
ing the deep brown and black striped 
flower, green outside, and the sturdy little 
“Jack” inside. Rose thought it very funny, 
but didn’t consider it a pretty blossom at 
all. Louise picked one, carefully. 

“I must take it home to show to 
Mother,” she said. “Oh! It’s come up, root 
and all.” 

“Tell your mother here is an Indian 
Turnip for her supper,” suggested Uncle 
Jim, touching the root. “Indian Turnip is 
another name for it, Louise.” 

. “Is it?” asked the children together. 
“Why?” 

“Don’t you see the root is a bulb?” 

“Taste it, Louise,” said Teddy, with a 
grin. 

But Louise objected. “It is too dirty,” 
she said. 


UNCLE JIM’S VISIT 


113 

Teddy scraped a bit of the bulb clean, 
and cut off a thin slice, which Louise 
popped into her mouth. 

“Don’t swallow it, Louise,” warned 
Uncle Jim. 

“I want a taste, too,” cried Rose. 

“No, no! Rose,” said Louise, hastily 
dropping it from her mouth. “No, it burns. 
Teddy, you are a mean thing. It isn’t a bit 
like turnip. Uncle Jim.” 

They went on then to the swimming 
hole, and Louise showed Rose the big 
rock from which the boys dived. 

“Shall we bathe here, when the water 
gets warmer?” asked Rose doubtfully. It 
looked very deep, and not at all inviting, 
she thought. 

“No indeed! Not here,” cried Louise. 
“I am sure, not. We’d drown. We shall go 
in down below the Falls. There are nice. 


114 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

sandy places there.” Rose felt relieved to 
hear this. 

Then Teddy showed them all a king¬ 
fisher’s nest. He had found it on the day 
he went in swimming. It was in a hole in a 
steep part of the bank by the brook, a deep 
hole, and they peered over the top of the 
bank very carefully, lest they roll pebbles 
down, or frighten the mother bird. 

“You mustn’t tell anybody it is there,” 
cautioned Teddy, as they started for home. 
“Some of the fellows might poke it out of 
there.” So Uncle Jim and the girls prom¬ 
ised not to tell a single person, “except 
Mother and Dad,” said Louise. 

When they reached home, it was nearly 
supper time, and, after supper, they all 
went for a ride in Uncle Jim’s car. Louise 
liked it, sitting in back with Mr. Allen 


UNCLE JIM'S VISIT 


115 

and Rose and Teddy. Coming home, Rose 
went to sleep, and was carried out of the 
car and up to bed without being wakened. 
She explained to Louise, the next morning: 

“First, I was car-riding, and then it was 
night. Next, I found myself in bed, and it 
was morning-time.” 

On Sunday morning they all went to 
church in town, then had another long 
ride. In the afternoon the grown-ups sat 
in the front garden and talked. Uncle Jim 
had a camera, but he did not tell the chil¬ 
dren about it. He wanted to get pictures 
of them when they were playing, not pos¬ 
ing. That explains why there was such a 
fine collection of snap-shots. The three 
best were as follows: one of Louise and 
Rose, sitting on the steps dressing a doll; 
one of Mr. Allen lying in the hammock 


ii6 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 


with Louise sitting beside him, carefully 
packing tobacco into his pipe; and one of 
Rose coming around the corner of the 
house, carrying in her arms Hortense, 
Peggy, and Lulu, the gray cat. 


CHAPTER X 


LOUISE’S BIRTHDAY 

Louise was to celebrate her birthday in 
less than a week. She awoke to the fact 
quite suddenly, and smiled with pleasure 
over the thoughts it brought. Mrs. Allen 
always had a party for her on her birth¬ 
day. It was time to begin planning for it. 
There were the invitations to be written, 
and distributed among her friends at 
school. Louise thought of little Rose, who 
would be there to enjoy the party, too. 
“Her birthday isn’t very much farther 
away than mine,” thought Louise. “Per¬ 
haps Mother will have another party for 
her. Oh! But that would be too much to 
ask of Mother. Parties make her heaps of 
work.” And then Louise was lost in 
thought for some time. 


ii8 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

After school, on that same day, Louise 
slipped into the house, leaving Rose bus¬ 
ily arranging the dolls and Lulu in com¬ 
fort in the hammock. She wished to have a 
private talk with her mother. Mrs. Allen 
was in the big armchair in the sitting- 
room, with her mending-basket, and a 
magazine. 

“Are you mending or reading, 
Mother?” asked Louise. 

“I am not quite sure yet,” laughed Mrs. 
Allen. “Which shall I do?” 

“Perhaps you should mend for a few 
minutes, then read afterwards,” advised 
the little girl, gravely. 

Her mother promptly selected a dam¬ 
aged stocking, and prepared to darn it. 
She suspected Louise wished to tell her 
something. The child looked a wee bit 
embarrassed, she thought. 


LOUISE'S BIRTHDAY 


119 

And then—“Mother, I suppose you 
didn’t forget about—about my birthday. 
It is nearly here now.” 

“My dear,” cried Mrs. Allen, glancing 
at a calendar, “so it is. I hadn’t forgotten, 
but I didn’t realize it was quite so near. 
Who is to come to the party, this year?” 

“I want to make some new plans, if you 
will agree. Mummy,” said Louise slowly. 

“What are they, dear?” 

“You know Rose’s birthday comes just 
a little after mine. I think I shall give her 
my party—let her have it on her birthday 
instead of mine. We can both enjoy it, just 
the same.” 

Mrs. Allen put her arm around her 
little daughter and kissed her. It pleased 
her to think what a thoughtful, unselfish 
child this one was. 

“I think that is a good plan,” she agreed. 


120 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 


“You must talk it over with Rose, and 
make a list of the names of all the children 
you wish to invite. It will give me more 
time to make plans.” 

Louise was delighted. “Shall I tell 
Rose, now?” she asked, and, as Mrs. Allen 
nodded, she ran off in great glee to find 
Rose. The two little girls talked long and 
eagerly over this matter, seated among the 
dolls, in the hammock. Lulu jumped out, 
and wandered away unnoticed. Rose was 
delighted over it. Parties were so exciting, 
- and to come on her birthday, too! 

So it happened that when Louise awoke, 
on the morning of her birthday, she 
treated it quite as any other day, dressed 
herself, prepared for school, and gave no 
thought to the usual birthday happenings. 
She felt she had given her birthday to Rose, 
along with the party, and she intended to 


LOUISE'S BIRTHDAY 


I 2 I 


get her own pleasure from seeing her little 
cousin happy. Mrs. Allen gave her nine 
special kisses, and Mr. Allen tweaked her 
ear nine times, very gently. Rose gave her 
nine violent squeezes and a birthday kiss, 
too. 

When Louise came home from school 
that afternoon, she met Mrs Allen and 
Rose at the top of the hill. They had 
walked there to meet her. Rose seemed 
bubbling over with excitement. 

“Oh, Louise!” she cried, “such a—I 
such a surprise! But I shan’t tell.” 

Mrs. Allen laughed, and Louise’s 
cheeks grew pinker than ever with excite¬ 
ment. A surprise? It was her birthday! Of 
course she had given her party to Rose, 
but it seemed there was something else for 
her. 

“It must be a birthday cake. Rose,” she 


122 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 


said, but Rose only cried: “I aren’t going 
to tell,” and danced on ahead. 

So they reached home, and turned into 
the walk that led across the garden to the 
front door. And there, back in a corner 
under the big elm—“See, Louise, see! 
Isn’t it lovely?” shrieked Rose. 

Louise was just as excited, and showed 
it by the deep pink color in her cheeks. 
“Oh, my playhouse that Daddy promised 
me!” she gasped. “I thought he had for¬ 
gotten,” and she ran forward to examine 
it. 

“Uncle Jim has been here ’most all 
day,” said Rose. “Uncle Donnie said he 
needed help to get it ready for you, Louise. 
I helped, too. So did Aunt Grace. We all 
worked, hard as hard.” 

And now Louise was inside the play¬ 
house, wrapped in admiration, and Rose 


LOUISE’S BIRTHDAY 


123 


followed her in. There were a tiny bed¬ 
room, a living room, and a kitchen. The 
living room and the bedroom were each 
about as large as the top of a kitchen table, 
and the kitchen was half as big again. 
There was real glass in the windows, and 
cunning curtains hung there. Linoleum 
was on the floors, and a wee rug in the 
bedroom, too. 

Mr. Allen had made the house in sec¬ 
tions, days before; also he had made some 
of its furnishings. All Louise’s doll- 
furniture was there,—her bed, baby-doll’s 
cradle, a little toy dresser, two tables, and 
her doll-dishes. There was her own little 
rocker. Mr. Allen had made the kitchen 
cabinet, a kitchen table, and a chair. There 
were a new bed and a chair in the bed¬ 
room, a padded chair and a sofa in the 
sitting-room. Mrs. Allen had padded these 


124 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

herself. There were cushions on the sofa, 
too. A little plant in a flower-pot sat on 
one window-sill. There was a kitchen sink. 
“You can pour water in it, too,” said Rose. 
But the crowning feature was the kitchen 
stove. 

“It is your present from Uncle Jim,” 
said Mrs. Allen. Louise could not leave 
it. “A real stove!” she gasped. There was 
a fire laid in it, and, Mrs. Allen having 
assured her it was safe for her to light it, 
Louise, with trembling fingers, struck the 
match and dropped it in. She replaced the 
stove-lids, and smiled happily at Rose, 
then called through the open window to 
Mrs. Allen, outside. 

“Mother, Rose and I could almost live 
in this little house.” 

“I expect you will, too,” laughed Mrs. 
Allen. “Probably you will come in my 


LOUISE'S BIRTHDAY 


125' 


house to sleep at night, as I fear those little 
beds aren’t large enough for you.” 

The fire in the stove crackled and 
burned. The little teakettle (it held nearly 
two cups of water) was set on to boil. 

“Let’s cook something, Louise,” cried 
Rose. 

“I can’t now,” said Louise. “I haven’t 
seen everything yet.” 

She examined the kitchen cabinet. There 
were her doll-dishes, neatly stowed away, 
a new collection of pans and spoons, and 
a little rolling-pin. There were various 
little packages of groceries. A cunning 
pat of butter filled Louise with admiration. 
She found her milk pitcher and cream jug 
filled. There were two nice little loaves of 
fresh bread. She almost burst with delight 
when she found a dozen tiny bantam eggs 
on a lower shelf. 


126 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 


“Carrie brought them for you,” said 
Rose. “She has bantam hens, you know.” 

“I could make a cake. Mother,” sug¬ 
gested Louise, hesitating a little. 

“Of course,” replied her mother. “You 
must make yourself a birthday cake. But 
before you begin, won’t you go into your 
sitting-room, for a minute. There is a par¬ 
cel in there, on the table for you. It came 
this morning.” 

Louise was there in a twinkling, with 
Rose at her heels. She stepped outdoors 
with her parcel. 

“It is from Aunt Helen,” said Mrs. 
Allen, as Louise pulled off the wrappings. 
Within were a little pink-flowered house 
dress, and two darling little kitchen 
aprons, with caps to match: one in blue 
and white, and one pink, with a design 
stitched on the front,—a lady cook, wield- 


LOUISE’S BIRTHDAY 


127 


ing a rolling-pin. There was a card inside, 
too. “To be worn in the new kitchen,” it 
said. 

“They are so pretty!” sighed Louise. 
“Isn’t Aunt Helen the darlingest!” 

Then Teddy came to admire the new 
house. Rather awkwardly he produced a 
parcel, and extended it toward Louise. 
More excitement I Louise unwrapped it to 
disclose two smaller parcels—“One from 
Mother, and one from me,” explained 
Teddy. The one bearing Teddy’s name 
proved to be a neat little cook-book, with 
a yellow cover. 

“Oh, Teddy! Isn’t it a darling present?” 
cried Louise. “Thank you so much! Now 
I can cook everything.” 

The other parcel contained a little tin 
cake box, about six inches square, with a 
top and bottom compartment. In the top 



128 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 


was a nice little chocolate cake, and on the 
brown icing, in white letters, was printed 
the name “Louise.” In the bottom were 
some tiny cookies. 

“She said to tell you this isn’t the birth¬ 
day cake, Louise,” grunted Teddy. 

“Isn’t it beautiful!” breathed that young 
lady. 

“Isn’t your mother an awf’ly nice girl, 
Teddy,” commented Rose. 

When Teddy had admired the house, 
“real shingles on it,” and had exclaimed, 
“I suppose it will turn the rain like a 
daisy,” he departed. Mrs. Allen took the 
children in the house, as Louise wished to 
try on her new dress. She found it fitted 
nicely, and then she donned a new apron 
and cap—the pink one. The blue went on 
Rose, and then they both ran back to the 
playhouse. But they did no cooking. The 


LOUISE’S BIRTHDAY 


129 


fire had gone out, anyhow. They were kept 
busy examining and exclaiming, and ad¬ 
miring. And before they expected it, Mrs. 
Allen called them to supper. 

The latter end of this meal brought a 
birthday cake, a real one with nine candles 
on it. 

“I was afraid you wouldn’t find time to 
make one, in the playhouse,” explained 
Mrs. Allen. 

It was a lovely cake. Mrs. Allen took 
them all out to the veranda, and cut 
the cake there. Carrie came up, on pur¬ 
pose to taste it, she said. Teddy came over 
to have some of it, too. There were, ex¬ 
plained Mrs. Allen, some pieces of money, 
a button, a ring, and a thimble hidden 
away in the cake. 

“If you get money, it means riches; a 
button is for the old bachelor; and the 


130 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

thimble for the old maid. The ring is for 
the first one to be married.” 

Strange to relate, Rose, Louise, and 
Teddy each bit into a dime. Carrie re¬ 
ceived the button. She laughed very much 
over it. “Since I can’t be the old bachelor,” 
she said, “perhaps I am going to get one.” 
Then she got the ring, too, in a second 
slice of cake. 

“That settles it,” she exclaimed. “Tell 
all the old bachelors to beware.” 

Just then Mr. Allen nearly swallowed 
a dime, and Mrs. Allen discovered the 
thimble, all of which amused the young 
people very much. Birthday cakes are 
such fun. 

“It has been the loveliest birthday pos¬ 
sible,” said Louise at bed-time. “I am glad 
to-morrow is Saturday. We must bake lots 
of things. Rose.” 


CHAPTER XI 


A BUSY MORNING 

Louise awoke in the night, and lay 
in the darkness listening. There was the 
patter of rain-drops, little gusts of wind 
driving them against the window-pane. 
Usually Louise liked the sound of the rain¬ 
drops. It was pleasant to be snug and warm 
indoors, while the rain took charge of the 
outside world. But to-night the rain filled 
her with uneasiness. She couldn’t quite un¬ 
derstand why, at first. Then, suddenly, she 
remembered. 

“My house! It is out there in the rain. 
Oh, dear!” 

She jumped up, hurriedly, and her bare 
feet pattered almost as fast as the rain¬ 
drops, taking her to her mother’s room. 
Mrs. Allen awoke in a moment. 


132 SIX-YEAR-OLD'S STORY-BOOK 

“Louise!” she gasped. “My dear! Are 
you ill?” 

“Mother!” wept the child, “My house! 
It is raining so hard. Will Daddy go out 
and cover it, do you think?” 

“Oh!” said Mrs. Allen, “The play¬ 
house ! My dear, I was afraid you were ill. 
The house is safe, little girl. It is as dry 
inside now, as this one. Daddy made it 
quite rain-proof. Don’t worry about it. It 
is a real out-door house.” 

And all the time Mrs. Allen was hurry¬ 
ing her little daughter back to her bed, 
where she tucked her in, and kissed her 
good night. So Louise went off to sleep, 
quite happy again. 

When she and Rose awoke in the 
morning, it was still raining hard, and 
Rose began to scold about the weather, but 


A BUSY MORNING 


133 

Louise was able to cheer her at once. 

“Never mind, Rose. We don’t care if it 
rains. We are going to be busy in the play¬ 
house, all day. I am glad it is raining. That 
makes the weather cooler, and you remem¬ 
ber our little kitchen gets fairly hot when 
the fire is burning.” 

Louise was busy dressing, as she spoke. 
Then she helped Rose, and they ran down¬ 
stairs together. Breakfast over, Louise at 
once busied herself, “helping Mother,” 
while Rose, all impatience, stepped about 
in every one’s way. 

“Leave the rest of your work till after 
lunch, Louise, if you like,” said Mrs. 
Allen. 

“Run along,” cried Sadie kindly, “and 
play. I’ll do your chores for you, this 
morning.” 


134 SIX-YEAR-OLD'S STORY-BOOK 

“Put on your rubbers and take my big 
umbrella,” Mrs. Allen called after them, 
as they ran. 

The children spent the happiest morn¬ 
ing you can possibly imagine. They each 
put on one of the pretty new aprons. Then 
they inspected the little house carefully, 
to see if all was well. No rain had leaked 
in. Louise then laid a fire in the stove with 
paper and chips, and set a match to it. 
Then she sat down with the new cook¬ 
book, and said, “What shall we bake first. 
Rose?” 

“A cake!” cried Rose. 

So Louise read aloud several cake rec¬ 
ipes, while Rose listened gravely, al¬ 
though they all sounded very much the 
same to her. When she grew tired listen¬ 
ing (about the fourth recipe), she decided. 

“I think that is a good one.” 


A BUSY MORNING 


I 3 S 

Louise agreed, so they began to mix the 
cake. It was a spice cake, and such fun. 
Louise measured butter and sugar in her 
doll’s cups, put them in a bowl, and began 
to mix them. She directed Rose to measure 
flour, and to put it in the little sieve with a 
pinch of salt. Then Rose used a doll’s 
spoon to add spices and baking powder. 
She wanted to sift this into Louise’s bowl 
at once, but Louise stopped her. 

“There must be eggs, first. I wonder if 
these eggs are the right size for our cake. 
I must ask Mother.” 

She was gone five minutes, during which 
time Rose tasted the mixture in Louise’s 
bowl, then dipped her little forefinger into 
the sieve full of spices and flour. She did 
not like that very well. Louise came back, 
to say, “Mother thinks one egg will be 
about right. I shall break it in the other 


136 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

bowl. There! Now here is the egg-beater. 
You may beat it, Rose.” 

Rose did so, gladly, nearly upsetting the 
bowl. Louise had to rescue it and finish 
the beating herself, while Rose sifted and 
resifted the flour and spices. Lastly, Louise 
cut up into tiny bits enough raisins to fill 
her doll’s cup twice. And so the cake was 
finally finished. Louise put it into her two 
new cake pans, a round one and a square 
one, and just managed to get both pans 
in her oven at once. While the cakes baked, 
the little girls gathered up the used dishes 
and spoons and washed them at the little 
sink. 

“Let’s make cookies, after our cakes are 
done,” Louise suggested. “Now I must 
look in the oven.” She cautiously opened 
the oven-door, and peeped in. 

“Oh! Aren’t they cunning? See, Rose!” 


A BUSY MORNING 


137 


Louise closed the door again. “Mother 
must come and see. I do not know if they 
have baked enough,” and she ran off to the 
big house, with Rose, under the umbrella. 

Mrs. Allen was busy, but she took time 
to run out to the playhouse to inspect the 
cakes. The house was pretty small for a 
grown person to get into, but Mrs. Allen 
managed to inspect the cakes. They were 
burnt just a little, by this time, “but not 
enough to spoil them,” said Louise cheer¬ 
fully. 

“I think they are beautiful,” said Mrs. 
Allen admiringly. “Really! You have 
done well, my dears.” 

The little girls thrilled with pride at this. 

“We must ice them, as soon as they 
cool,” said Louise. 

Rose wished to begin at once to mix the 
cookies. So they consulted the cook-book 


138 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

again, put a few bits of coal on the fire, 
and began to mix cookies. Louise really 
did most of the work. She measured and 
mixed to her heart’s content. Rose liked to 
sift the flour, and every now and then 
to dip her finger-tip into the mixture to 
taste it. 

“It is the goodest I ever tasted,” she de¬ 
clared. 

But when it was time to roll the dough. 
Rose was eager to try. She and Louise took 
turns, dividing their dough into two parts. 
And, very soon, they filled the little pans 
with cookies, about the size of a twenty- 
five-cent piece. There were twelve in one 
pan, and eleven in the other, “and enough 
left to fill each pan again,” said Louise 
proudly, putting a little sugar and cinna¬ 
mon on top of each. The cookies went into 


A BUSY MORNING 


139 


the oven, and, while they baked, there were 
more dishes for the children to wash, at 
the little sink. Louise kept a watchful eye 
on her treasures, and when they became 
the least bit brown, she drew them from 
the oven. As she proudly lifted each one 
carefully from the pan, a head appeared 
at the open window. 

“Hello!” said Teddy. “I saw a big smoke 
coming out your chimney, so I knew you 
must be baking. M-m! Something smells 
good.” 

“Come in, Teddy,” cried Rose. “We are 
having a lovely time.” But Teddy de¬ 
clined. 

“I am too wet,” he declared, “and too 
big to feel comfy in there, but I’ll take a 
cooky, if you ask me.” 

Louise held out three of the new cookies 


140 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

to him. He opened his mouth, and she 
popped them all in at once, while Rose 
shouted with laughter. 

“Yum yum!” Teddy smacked his lips. 
“There is a sweet taste in one of my teeth. 
Did I really eat a cooky?” 

“You ate three, you greedy little boy,” 
cried Rose, and then the three children all 
laughed merrily. 

Then Teddy was obliged to go, and the 
girls went back to their cooky-making. 

At noon Mrs. Allen gave them permis¬ 
sion to prepare a lunch for themselves in 
the playhouse. Rose set the table, while 
Louise ran to the big house to bring back 
two bowls of soup. Then she went off 
again, for milk and some rolls. One of the 
cakes, now nicely iced, adorned the table. 
There was a tiny plate of the new cookies, 
and some of those Mrs. Shaw had sent 


A BUSY MORNING 


141 

over. It was a very happy little party. Hor- 
tense and Peggy both had seats at the table, 
and every one was happy. 

“Next Saturday, Rose, we must make 
our own soup out here. And we must have 
Mother teach us how to make a tiny loaf of 
bread.” 

“I wish we had a little cow, all our own, 
so we needn’t go to the house for milk,” 
said Rose. 

Louise laughed at the funny idea. “Per¬ 
haps we should get a goat,” she said. 

“And some little banty hens to lay us 
some eggs,” giggled Rose. “Do you s’pose 
Carrie will give us some more eggs? 
Let’s each cook an egg to eat now. I don’t 
really want one, but I could eat it. I want 
to see it cook in the dear little frying- 
pan.” 

So two tiny eggs were fried, without but- 


142 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

ter, and added to the feast in a tumbled 
heap, for they stuck fast to the pan. 

“It is a funny dinner, isn’t it,” laughed 
Louise, “but it tastes good, don’t you think 
so?” 

“It is awf’ly good,” said Rose. 

“I like to listen to the rain pattering on 
our roof,” went on Louise. “It seems very 
near to us, doesn’t it? I’m glad it cannot 
get in.” 

“I wish we had beds in here, Louise,” 
said Rose, “so we could sleep here at 
night.” 

“Oh no, dear!” said Louise. “S’posing 
we woke in the night, and wanted Mother. 
Anyhow, a bed big enough for us would 
fill our bedroom full. I don’t really believe 
we could get a big bed in there.” 

“And we could never get it out again, 
either,” Rose said thoughtfully. 


A BUSY MORNING 


143 


So the little party presently ended. The 
girls washed their dishes, and put every¬ 
thing carefully away, then ran in to see 
Mrs. Allen, and tell her about it. 

“I must stay in for a while. Rose,” said 
Louise. “I haven’t helped Mother and 
Sadie a bit, and they are so busy on Satur¬ 
days.” 

“I will help, too, as hard as I can,” de¬ 
clared Rose. 


CHAPTER XII 


ADVENTURES 

One afternoon, when Louise reached 
home after school, Mrs. Allen called to 
her. 

“Louise, as soon as you change your 
dress, run out to the barn, and look for a 
new hen’s-nest. I heard a hen cackling in 
there to-day.” 

“And so did I,” cried Rose, who was 
hanging onto Louise’s arm. “I shall go 
out and look now, while you change your 
dress. And if I hide, will you find me?” 

“I’ll find you so soon you will think 
perhaps you didn’t hide at all,” laughed 
Louise. 

“Don’t go yet, children, after all,” cried 
Mrs. Allen suddenly. “Here is Uncle 
Jim’s car coming up the hill, and he has 


144 


ADVENTURES 


145 

a lady with him. I do believe it is Mrs. 
Snaith. Yes, and her husband, too.” 

Mrs. Snaith was a dear friend, and Mrs. 
Allen ran to the door to welcome her. 
Louise and Rose both shook hands with 
her, and behaved very nicely until Mrs. 
Allen gave them permission to run off. 
They.went like little Indians then, with a 
rush and a shout, to find Uncle Jim. He 
was talking to Mr. Allen and Mr. Snaith, 
in the back yard by the car. The two little 
girls hugged him delightedly, and laughed 
at his funny greeting, and Rose began to 
peep in his pockets to see if she might find 
a candy surprise. She found one, too, a 
neat little package containing chocolate, 
and she divided it with Louise. 

Mrs. Snaith could not stay late. She and 
her husband and Uncle Jim soon departed. 
Uncle Jim promising to come back on 


146 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

Sunday to take the girls in town to church, 
and afterwards to have lunch with Mrs. 
Snaith. This afternoon visit was the cause 
of a funny happening, “a real adventure 
for Rose,” so Louise declared. 

“Now, what were we doing when those 
people inter—inter—came and stopped 
us,” said Rose. 

“Interrupted,” said Louise kindly. “You 
were going to hide from me, in the barn.” 

“Oh yes, and I know such a good place,” 
cried Rose. She ran gayly off, and Louise 
followed at a walk, to give her plenty of 
time to hide. 

Rose had certainly chosen a fine hiding- 
place, for Louise could not seem to find 
her. Rose had run into the empty cow- 
barn, and crept into a manger under 
some loose hay. She heard Louise looking 


ADVENTURES 


147 

for her, and stifled her giggles, lest they 
tell where she lay hiding. 

The cow-barn and upper barn were 
really one, with a long partition dividing 
them. The cows’ stalls were in a row 
along this partition, which had openings 
cut in it like windows, looking into the 
upper barn. 

Rose raised her head from the hay to 
peep at Louise presently, through one of 
these openings; and seeing her very near, 
in the act of climbing the ladder into the 
hayloft. Rose ducked her head under the 
hay again. She did not at first heed a cer¬ 
tain amount of noise and clatter she heard 
outside. Nor when this clatter came nearer 
her did she realize what it meant. Her 
mind was busy, tracing Louise’s move¬ 
ments, and listening to her calls. When 


148 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

suddenly the clatter of hoofs sounded on 
the cow-barn floor, Rose sat up in sudden 
alarm, only to see a great head almost over 
her. 

She tried to scream but only made a 
queer little gurgling sound. A cow! 
George, the hired man, had just returned 
from the pasture, driving the cows to the 
barn for the night. The cow standing over 
Rose looked immense and frightful to the 
little girl, crouched there in the manger. 
To say Rose was alarmed is putting it 
mildly; she was nearly frightened to death. 
But so was the cow. She wasn’t used to 
having little girls pop up in front of her 
from her manger. She backed hastily out 
of her stall, just as George, behind her, 
stepped forward to tie her. And then Rose 
managed to set her poor little terror-bound 
voice free. She screamed so loudly that 



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ADVENTURES 


149 


George declared afterwards she almost 
“scart” him out of his senses. One doesn’t 
expect to find little girls in a cow’s stall, so 
perhaps it isn’t strange that George was 
startled. Also, Rose leaped to her feet, as 
she screamed, and threw her arms around 
him, and held on so tightly that the sur¬ 
prised George couldn’t move for about a 
minute. 

In that time the frightened cow turned, 
and ran out of the barn, and Louise’s 
startled face appeared in the opening over 
the manger. 

“George!” she cried. “What happened 
to Rose?” 

“Nothing to her,” said George. “Why 
don’t you ask what happened to me? She 
almost scart me out of my senses.” 

He loosened Rose’s arms, and then held 
her back from him. “What were you do- 


150 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

ing in that cow’s feed-box?” he demanded. 

“She was hiding from me,” explained 
Louise, for Rose was too full of sobs and 
gasps and tears for any words to answer 
him. 

Louise helped her little cousin through 
the opening, and into the hay-barn, where 
they sat on a pile of hay, while Rose cried 
heartily and Louise lovingly comforted 
her, and George went off to find the fright¬ 
ened cow, and drive her back to her stall. 

“I didn’t know it was time for the cows 
to come from the pasture,” sobbed Rose, 
presently. “You were just home from 
school. I thought it was too early for 
cows.” 

“You forgot about Mrs. Snaith being 
here and keeping us late,” said Louise. 

“I was afraid of the cow, and she was 
’fraid of me,” went on Rose. “I aren’t 


ADVENTURES 


151 

afraid of cows when I’m outdoors, and 
standing up. But I was lying down, and 
she put her head right over me, and she 
looked very different.” 

Louise could understand this. She 
hugged Rose in silence. Just then George’s 
head appeared in the opening. 

“Look, Rose!” he called. 

Rose looked. He put his arm around 
Bossie’s neck and his head against her, 
and said teasingly: 

“How do you like my little pet?” 

Rose puckered her nose at him and 
looked haughty, and George laughed at 
her. 

“Let’s go in the house, Louise,” said 
Rose, so they left the barn, Louise smiling 
a little. 

George called after them, “Bring your 
supper out, and have a tea-party in Bossie’s 


152 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

feed-box, Rose,” but that young lady did 
not deign to answer him. 

The children told Mrs. Allen all about 
it, and she said Rose had had quite an ad¬ 
venture. 

“Adventure! What is it?” asked Rose. 
“Being afraid?” 

“No,” replied Louise. “It is when some¬ 
thing strange and different, and perhaps 
dangerous, too, happens to you.” 

“Did you ever have an adventure?” 
asked Rose. 

“I don’t think so,” began Louise, but 
Mrs. Allen answered for her. 

“She has had plenty of funny happen¬ 
ings that we might call adventures. Once 
when she was a very little girl, she was 
sailing her boat in the horse-trough. It was 
a little chip of wood, and she had two or 
three pebbles on it. It sailed away from 


ADVENTURES 


153 


her, and, when she reached out for it, she 
fell in the trough, head first. She couldn’t 
get out, and, if her daddy hadn’t happened 
to see it all, she might have drowned. He 
ran to pull her out, and brought her in the 
house, and it wasn’t long before she was 
all right again. But it was quite an adven¬ 
ture for such a little girl. Don’t you think 
so?” 

Rose looked startled. She clung tightly 
to Louise’s hand, as if she were in imagi¬ 
nation pulling the little tot from the big 
horse-trough. 

“I nearly lost my dear little cousin then, 
didn’t I?” she said gravely, and Louise 
couldn’t help laughing. 

“Tell me another. Aunt Grace,” de¬ 
manded Rose. 

“Once,” said Aunt Grace, “when she 
was a baby lying in her buggy, a naughty 


154 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

boy pushed it, at the top of a hill. There 
was a brake on the buggy, and it was set 
to check the wheels, but he moved the 
brake, and pushed. The buggy carried her 
at a great rate of speed part-way down the 
hill, then it ran off into the grass, and 
spilled her on a lawn. It didn’t hurt her a 
bit, but it frightened me dreadfully. That 
was before we lived on the farm. 

“But the worst time of all was when she 
was about two-and-a-half years old, and 
she began to follow her daddy about, every¬ 
where. One day she saw him going down 
towards the pasture, and she toddled after 
him. He did not see her, and he went so 
fast he left her far behind. She lost sight of 
him, and very soon lost herself. We looked 
everywhere for her, all through the house, 
in all the closets and cupboards, every¬ 
where in the barns, down cellar, over at 


ADVENTURES 


I5S 

Mrs. Shaw’s. It was a long time before we 
found her, for we never thought to look 
so far from home. She had wandered away 
down by the railroad, and sat crying in the 
middle of the track. Her father scooped 
her up in his arms about five minutes be¬ 
fore the evening train was due. A freight 
train had passed just before then, when 
she was toddling along beside the track.” 

Mrs. Allen paused. “Go on!” begged 
Rose. “I’m holding her safe.” 

“Mother,” said Louise, with a little 
smile, “tell Rose about Uncle Jim and the 
puppy.” 

“When Uncle Jim was a little bit of a 
boy, before he could walk,” began Mrs. 
Allen, “he used to creep about in the grass, 
on his hands and knees. My father bought 
us a new puppy. It was for me and my 
sister Helen (your mother. Rose), and 


156 SIX-YEAR-OLD'S STORY-BOOK 

for little baby Jim. He loved the puppy 
at once. We kept it tied to a post, near the 
house, at first, as it liked to run away. One 
day Baby Jim crept across the grass to 
play with his puppy. He sat down beside 
the post, and the puppy frolicked around 
him, and licked his face, and tried to coax 
him to get up, and run about. In his play, 
the puppy managed to wind his rope 
around the post and the baby’s neck, two 
or three times. It made the rope much 
shorter, and the puppy pulled hard to get 
more freedom, so he made the rope choke 
the baby. When my mother found them, 
baby’s face was blue.” 

“Oh! Was he dead?” cried Rose, her 
eyes full of tears. 

Mrs. Allen laughed gayly. “Do you 
think he could have been? It was Uncle 
Jim, you know.” 


ADVENTURES 


157 


“He’s quite well now, anyhow,” mur¬ 
mured Rose, in great relief. “What did 
my Grammy do?” 

“She unwound the rope, and carried him 
in the house. He was soon well and happy 
again. Now Louise, set the table; and 
Rose, run and call Uncle Donnie and 
George. It is supper-time.” 


CHAPTER XIII 


ROSE’S BIRTHDAY 

School closed just two days before the 
end of June. 

“I am so glad,” cried Rose. “Two nice 
things happen at once. Louise stopped 
going to school; that is one. And my birth¬ 
day is coming; that’s the other. Let’s have 
our party at the brook. May we, Aunt 
Grace? I want to take my bathing-suit.” 
(Rose’s mother had sent her bathing- 
suit just a few days before that.) 

“Oh! It would be fun. Mother,” ex¬ 
claimed Louise. “We can have a picnic- 
party, if you think it is a good plan.” 

“I like the idea very much,” said Mrs. 
Allen. “You shall have a picnic-party. 
Rose. Now tell me who is to come?” 

“I want Harry, and Dorothy, and 

158 


ROSE'S BIRTHDAY 


159 

Teddy, and Carrie—and who else?” be¬ 
gan Rose. 

“Let’s go out to the hammock, and write 
a list of names,” suggested Louise. So off 
they ran. 

The list, duly presented for Mrs. Allen’s 
approval, omitted Carrie and Teddy. 

“They’re too big for her little party, 
Mumsy, don’t you think so?” asked Lou¬ 
ise, but she felt a little uncertain about it. 

There were nine names on the list, when 
it was finished, “and Rose and I make 
eleven. It will mean a very big picnic 
basket, won’t it?” asked Louise, a trifle 
anxiously. 

“I will look after the basket,” laughed 
Mrs. Allen, “if you will write the invita¬ 
tions.” 

“Oh, yes! That is fun, for me,” Louise 
agreed, in great relief. 


i6o SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 


The invitations were all written by eve¬ 
ning, and the next morning the postman 
took six of them. George, who was going 
to town, carried another, to deliver on the 
way, and Louise and Rose took the other 
two to near-by homes. 

On her birthday morning Rose received 
a parcel from Mother and Daddy; inside 
it was a darling doll, dressed in pink silk, 
with a “really” straw hat with pink rib¬ 
bons. Aunt Grace gave Rose a work-box 
with thimble, needles, and thread, for Rose 
liked to sew for her dolls. Louise gave her 
an album for snap-shots and photographs. 
Why? Well, you see. Uncle Jim gave her 
a cunning little camera. Rose was so happy 
she could not find words to tell of it. 

It was a fine sunny morning, and the 
children were delighted. They helped Mrs. 
Allen, all morning, in her preparation of 


ROSE'S BIRTHDAY 


i6i 


the picnic-lunch. George promised to de¬ 
liver it for them at the brookside, all but 
the birthday cake, which Louise was to 
carry herself, in a special basket. It was a 
big cake, and very pretty, thought Louise 
proudly, for she had decorated it herself, 
spelling with tiny red candies on the white 
icing: happy birthday to rose. There 
were a row of the red candies around the 
edge, and six red candles were in the 
basket ready to be put on the cake. 

At one o’clock the picnickers began to 
arrive. There were mysterious parcels kept 
carefully from Rose’s eyes. Rose had not 
thought of parcels, so was not expecting to 
see any; therefore it was easy to keep them 
hidden. The children’s names were Stella, 
Dorothy, Harry, James, Hazel, Jean, 
Fred, May, and Edna. They were an ex¬ 
cited and happy little flock, and raced 


i 62 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 


ahead of Mrs. Allen, down through the 
meadow, across pasture-land, and into the 
woods. There was a crooked little path 
through the bushes and trees, and it 
brought them by a winding way right to 
the Falls. 

“Oh, there are the lovely Niag’ra Falls,” 
screamed Rose. “May we go in swim¬ 
ming?” 

Every child had been told to bring a 
bathing-suit. Rose’s was brown, with a 
bright yellow band around it. Louise’s was 
a fawn color with blue bands. There were 
red bathing-suits, and blue, and green 
ones. Harry’s was gray with three red 
stripes around it. When all the children 
were at last in the water, below the falls, 
it was a bright and lively scene. Mrs. 
Allen, from the shore, took several pic¬ 
tures of them for Rose, with the new cam- 


ROSE’S BIRTHDAY 163 

era. Harry and James could both swim a 
little, and they showed off their accom¬ 
plishment as much as possible. Louise was 
learning to swim, too, and managed to 
win admiring comments from some of the 
other girls. 

Presently Mrs. Allen called to them all 
to come out. It was not good, she said, to 
stay in the water too long. So they all came 
out, and, in a short time, eleven bright- 
colored bathing-suits lay in a row on a 
gentle slope of rock, to dry in the sun. The 
children did not dress their feet. It was too 
much fun to paddle in the water at inter¬ 
vals, and dig bare toes in the sand, or to 
climb about on the smooth hot rocks. The 
boys helped Mrs. Allen gather sticks for 
a fire, on the gravel bed at the brookside. 
There were sizzling and boiling sounds 
in the air soon, “and such a nice, mixed 


i 64 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

sort of smell,” murmured one of the boys. 

And then, along the pathway, who 
should come into sight but Carrie and 
Teddy. Louise was astonished. She looked 
quickly at Mrs. Allen, who was smiling 
and waving at the newcomers. Each one 
carried a basket. 

“More provisions, Louise,” said Carrie. 

“My dear!” protested Mrs. Allen. “We 
have enough now to feed an army.” 

“You will need it all,” said Teddy, 
“judging by the way I feel.” 

Mrs. Allen whispered to Louise, “Rose 
wanted to ask them, so I let her do so. I 
forgot to tell you before.” 

Louise was delighted. Carrie and Teddy 
were both so full of fun. Carrie became the 
life of the party at once, organizing 
games, running and laughing, and keep¬ 
ing every one happy and gay. Teddy 


ROSE’S BIRTHDAY 165 

found more fire-wood for Mrs. Allen, and 
busied himself helping her for a while, 
till she sent him off to play. There was a 
great game of tag in an open space. Such 
fun it was, and how every one laughed 
when little Rose ran so fast she caught 
Teddy, after Carrie, who was tall and 
swift, failed! Then Louise and Edna 
chased Fred all over the little glade, but 
could not catch him, while Rose caught 
him in a trice. 

After “Tag,” they played “London 
Bridge,” “The Farmer in the Dell,” and 
“Drop the Handkerchief.” In the midst of 
this last game, Louise and Carrie vanished, 
to help Mrs. Allen lay the table-cloth, in a 
beautiful spot near the brookside, where 
pine-needles made a lovely carpet, and 
the tall trees afforded cool shade. 

“There are fourteen of us. Mother,” 


i66 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 


said Louise, laying plates, “that makes five 
at each side, and two at each end.” 

“This is Rose’s place,” said Carrie. “Put 
all the parcels in this basket, and, after this 
dinner-party is over, we will set the basket 
before her, and let her open them.” 

“Call the children now; we are ready 
-for the fray,” laughed Mrs. Allen. 

Carrie ran to do this. “Follow the 
Leader,” she cried, “and I am Leader.” 

They followed her in a merry line, and 
she led them to where the cloth was spread 
on the ground. Every one was soon seated, 
and “ready for action,” as Fred remarked. 
There was plenty of laughter when Teddy 
declared Rose and Louise had been cook¬ 
ing for a week, in the new playhouse at 
home, preparing for this party. 

“We never, Teddy Shaw,” cried Rose. 
“We ate up all our own cooking. Only, 


ROSE’S BIRTHDAY 


167 

you ate some of it, too. Once, he ate three 
cookies in one mouthful,” she told the 
others. 

“And then I didn’t have enough for one 
good bite,” laughed Teddy. 

“Here is a riddle,” said Carrie. “Why is 
Louise’s playhouse like Teddy?” 

“Because both are full of cookies,” 
shouted Harry, and every one laughed. 

“It’s because Louise likes them both,” 
guessed Rose. More laughter. 

“It is because they’re both shingled in 
red,” said Carrie, who liked to tease Teddy 
by telling him his hair was red. 

“Just for that. Miss Carrie,” cried 
Teddy, “I will take you may-flowering 
next spring, and push you off the bridge.” 

When the birthday cake came out of its 
basket, the six candles had been inserted, 
and Mrs. Allen now carefully lighted 


i68 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

them, one after the other. But a very light 
breeze that was blowing put the candles 
out almost as fast as she lit them. So she 
decided to do without the lights. Every¬ 
body admired the cake, Rose especially, 
who was filled with delight over her birth¬ 
day and all the surprises it held. After the 
cake, appetites lagged. 

Then Carrie brought forward a basket, 
and set it before Rose. 

“For your birthday. Rose,” she said, 
“from all of us.” 

Rose was greatly astonished for a mo¬ 
ment, then, with an eager cry, she caught 
up a parcel from the basket. Carrie had a 
peep at it, and said, “That is from Jean.” 
Rose opened it, and found a bright- 
covered story-book. “The King of the 
Golden Pjver,” read Carrie. Everybody 
admired this. The next parcel had a card 


ROSE’S BIRTHDAY 169 

on it—“from May,” and it proved to be a 
pretty little cup and saucer “to use in the 
new playhouse,” said May. The third par¬ 
cel, from Fred, was a game,—a new one 
Rose had never played before. The fourth, 
from Edna, was a tiny baby-doll, dressed 
in long white clothes. Rose was greatly 
pleased with this, and had to admire it for 
several minutes. Then followed a set of 
doll’s dishes, from Carrie; a little toy 
watch from James (it wouldn’t really go), 
a pretty little white china teapot, with pink 
roses on it, from Harry; another book 
from Dorothy; a bottle of beautiful green 
perfume from Hazel (Rose admired this 
very much), and a skipping-rope from 
Teddy. Everything pleased Rose, and she 
thanked them all as nicely as she could. 

After the lunch, every one sat on the 
grass, talking and telling stories and rid- 


170 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

dies. Rose examined all her presents again. 
Dorothy read aloud a story to her. She 
tried the new skipping-rope. She filled the 
new teapot with brook water, and poured 
it out again, a dozen times. The wrist 
watch was fastened on her little brown 
wrist. She carried the baby-doll in her arms. 

All too soon it was time to go home. 

Much later. Rose and Louise had a few 
moments in the hammock, just before bed¬ 
time. 

Rose said, ‘T thought the swimming was 
such fun. It must be the best fun there is, 
but the games were even more fun, and the 
‘dinner’ was even mo-o-ore fun. And the 
presents were better still. It kept getting 
better and better. It was a lovely party.” 

Louise smiled and hugged her dear little 
cousin. She thought it had been a lovely 
party, too. 


CHAPTER XIV 


MIDSUMMER FUN 

Haying-time on the farm meant new in¬ 
terests for the children. It was cherry-time, 
too. The two big cherry-trees, one on either 
side of the chicken-house, were red with 
fruit. There was a small ladder in the barn. 
The little girls often carried it to the 
chicken-house, climbed up to the roof, and 
sat there with the cherry-trees on either 
hand. The roof was low and nearly flat. It 
sloped just a little. It was fine, up there. 
One felt quite lofty and altogether delight¬ 
ful. It was high enough to give the chil¬ 
dren a good view of the fields that stretched 
away below them. 

On the first day that the big mowing- 
machine was brought out to the yard, and 
oiled, and generally put in order, Louise 


172 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

and Rose stayed near at hand to watch with 
great interest. When Mr. Allen hitched the 
two big horses to it, and rode off to the 
hay-field, they followed eagerly. George 
and the new hired man (there were always 
new men for haying) came behind, with 
scythes. They must cut the hay in the cor¬ 
ners, where the mowing-machine could 
not reach. The children loved to watch the 
thick heavy hay fall in long swaths, as 
Mr. Allen drove along. Once they found 
an empty bird’s nest on the ground. 

“I am so glad the baby birds have gone,” 
said Louise. “They might have been killed 
if they were in the nest.” 

There were a few very late wild straw¬ 
berries, too, brought to light by the cut¬ 
ting of the long grass that hid them. 

When the children tired of running 
about in the hot sun in the hay-field, they 


MIDSUMMER FUN' 173 

went up the hillside, and into the farm¬ 
yard. 

“Let’s go up on the henhouse, and 
watch Daddy mowing,” suggested Louise. 
The cherry-trees gave them a little shade 
up there. There were ripe cherries to be 
eaten. Lunch time came before they knew 
it. 

“I want to come back to this beautiful 
place, and stay all afternoon,” said Rose 
as they went down the ladder. 

But afternoon brought new interests. 
The hay-rake went into action in the field 
of freshly cut hay. The hay was raked into 
long even rows, and George and the other 
man, with hay-forks, made it into the most 
beautiful piles. The children never left 
the field, hot as it was. They watched the 
men work, ran after the hay-rake, tumbled 
in the hay, and hid behind the haycocks. 


174 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

Louise found some lovely black-eyed 
Susans growing in a corner, across the 
fence. It was a very exciting and happy 
day. 

“Dad says,” related Louise, “that the 
hay isn’t dry enough to be put in the barn 
to-day, but they will put it in to-morrow.” 

After supper the big hay-rack was 
brought into the farmyard, ready for the 
next morning’s work. The children 
climbed into it, and had a splendid time 
there, playing with their dolls. They pre¬ 
tended the hay-rack was a boat, and they 
sailed off on a long journey to the strange 
lands Louise sometimes read about in her 
story-books. Bedtime came all too soon, 
but two tired little girls slept so soundly 
that morning came as a surprise. 

Rose intended to spend this day, as she 
had the preceding day, watching the work 


MIDSUMMER FUN 


175 


going on in the fields, and playing in the 
hay. But it was a difficult matter to watch 
everything. There were two extra men to¬ 
day. One was cutting a second field of hay 
with the mowing-machine, and the other 
was busy with a scythe. The rest of the 
men were putting hay in the barn. By 
noontime. Rose had thoroughly exhausted 
herself, running about, and Mr. Allen 
told her she might ride home beside 
George on top of the great load of hay. 
There was a breath-taking moment as she 
reached up from Mr. Allen’s arms to 
George’s outstretched hands, but George 
pulled her up safely, and Louise after her, 
and they cuddled down in the middle of 
the hay. George sat in front, driving the 
horses. Rose crawled up beside him, and 
discovered that the horses’ backs were be¬ 
low her. It frightened her a little. She 


176 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

crept back beside Louise, and they lay 
there, warm and lazy, looking up at the 
sky, for they couldn’t see much else, the 
hay billowed up around them so. The rack 
jolted and swayed, sometimes, but the 
children pretended it was a great ocean 
liner, rocked by immense waves. 

In the early afternoon, the children 
climbed up to the roof of the chicken- 
house, taking with them the dolls and some 
sewing. Louise was helping Rose to make 
a pink gingham dress for Peggy. It did 
not progress very fast. 

“I feel too warm to sew,” Rose decided. 

“You are tired, I know,” said Louise. 
“You must have run miles this morning, 
back and forth across the hay-field. Look 
at the big load of hay coming up the hill!” 

It came nearer and nearer, the horses 


MIDSUMMER FUN 


177 


pulling steadily, George sitting on the 
load, driving. It passed the henhouse so 
closely that the sides of the load brushed 
the building, and the top seemed level with 
the roof. Then it went on, into the barn, 
but riding gayly on top were two little 
girls. It had taken just one jump to carry 
them from the edge of the roof safely onto 
the load of hay. George was astonished 
when, inside the barn, he turned to find 
he had two passengers. 

“How did you get here. I’d like to 
know?” he inquired. 

“We jumped off the hen-house roof,” 
cried Rose laughing. “We s’prised you, 
George, didn’t we?” 

George turned to Louise. “Is that so? 
Did you really jump? You shouldn’t do 
such a trick as that. You might have gone 


178 SIX-YEAR-OLD'S STORY-BOOK 

down between the rack and the chicken- 
house, and broken a few bones, maybe 
your necks, too.” 

“O George!” Louise almost cried. “I 
didn’t stop to consider. The hay was so 
near, and Rose and I stood there, hand in 
hand, and it just seemed as if I must jump.” 

George felt sorry at once. “I know you 
won’t try it again, Louise,” he said kindly, 
“and you’ll keep Miss Fly-away here from 
doing it, so it’s all right, isn’t it?” 

He climbed down from the hay-rack, in 
front, over the horses’ backs, went around 
to the back, and held up his arms. Rose 
slipped off first, and then Louise. 

They watched the big fork in the barn, 
that worked on pulleys, swinging the hay 
from the rack into the haymow. The rack 
was soon empty, and off to the field for 
another load. 



It had taken just one jump.— Page 177. 






























MIDSUMMER FUN 


179 


“Let’s climb up the ladder into the mow, 
and jump in the hay,” said Rose. “It will 
be so soft and nice now.” Up they went to 
a loft above the haymow, to jump down 
into the new sweet hay. Oh! It was such 
fun. They climbed up and jumped down, 
then did it all over again, until two of the 
men came back with another big load of 
hay. The children from the loft watched 
this load being lifted into the mow. When 
the men departed with the hay-rack, they 
jumped again. But they were tired. They 
found it nicer to lie still on the hay, and to 
talk and rest at the same time. 

Presently a voice, far off, called, 
“Louise!” 

“It is Mother,” said Louise, sitting up. 
“I must go and see what she wants.” 

“It’s so hot here,” said Rose. “I’ll wait 
for you in the hammock.” 


i8o SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 


Louise went down the ladder first and 
ran off to the house. Mrs. Allen was put¬ 
ting ice in a cool drink she had prepared 
for the men in the hay-field. She wanted 
Louise to carry it to those thirsty workers. 

“I won’t call Rose, Mother,” said 
Louise. “She was tired, and it is so hot. If 
she comes in the house, tell her I’ll be right 
back.” She went away, carrying her bur¬ 
den very carefully, lest it spill. 

When she came back, she ran in the 
house, hot and tired, and dropped into a 
big chair in the cool living room, where 
Mrs. Allen sat talking with a neighbor. 
After a few minutes, Louise asked, 
“Mother, was Rose cross because I left 
without her?” 

Mrs. Allen looked up, rather surprised. 
“I don’t think she missed you, Louise. She 


MIDSUMMER FUN i8i 

hasn’t been in the house yet, to inquire for 
you.” 

Louise was glad to hear this. She was 
afraid Rose might have felt cross at being 
left behind. She went out to the hammock 
to look for Rose, and, not finding her 
there, looked all about the garden, and 
farmyard. Rose didn’t seem to be anywhere 
about. Louise climbed into the haymow, 
but there was no sign of Rose. She went 
in the house to tell Mrs. Allen about it. 
She ran over to Shaw’s, then down in the 
hay-field. Mrs. Allen and the neighbors 
joined in the search. The men, coming up 
from the hay-field with another load of 
hay, left it standing in the yard, and began 
to look for Rose. Mr. Allen came up from 
the field. His questions led Louise to say, 
“Daddy, I left her in the haymow, but she 


i 82 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 


isn’t there now. She said she was going to 
wait for me in the hammock, where it was 
cooler.” 

“Maybe she buried herself in the hay,” 
said one of the men. 

They all trooped up to the haymow. 
Another load of hay had been left there 
since Louise and Rose had been there. 
This last load was lifted carefully off, a 
forkful at a time, and thrown to one side. 
There, against the wall, in a deep, dark 
little nook, covered with hay, lay Rose fast 
asleep. Enough air had remained between 
the hay and the wall for her use. She was 
quite comfortable, and not too pleased at 
being awakened. She couldn’t understand 
why Louise cried, nor why everybody 
made such a fuss over her. Mrs. Allen held 
her in her arms, and cried, too, for a mo¬ 


ment. 


MIDSUMMER FUN. 183 

“If Old Bossie had been in the barn, I 
suppose we’d have had her cut open by this 
time, looking for Rose in her insides. Rose 
says cows eat little girls.” This from 
George. 

Every one laughed then, and felt better, 
but Rose was badly spoiled for the rest of 
the day. 


CHAPTER XV 


GOING HOME 

Rose had followed well the directions 
given by the city doctor, long ago, when 
she had had measles, for she nearly lived 
outdoors. She was plump and rosy now, 
tanned, and freckled a little, too. 

“Mother will like to see my roses back 
again, and I s’pose she’ll be glad I am 
fatter,” she said to Louise, “but I don’t 
b’lieve she’ll care much for my freckles.” 
Rose studied her little nose anxiously in 
the mirror. 

“Don’t worry about your freckles, dar¬ 
ling,” said Louise. “They’re so little your 
mammy-o must get a magnifying glass in 
order to see them.” 

“There are seven sure-nu£f freckles on 


184 


GOING HOME 


iSs 

my nose alone,” mourned Rose, “and sev¬ 
eral spots that look as if they might grow 
into freckles.” 

“They are nice little freckles,” said 
Louise, laughing, “they’re sun-kisses, 
don’t you know that? Aunt Helen will 
think you are the nicest girl in all the land. 
You’ll see.” 

The two little girls were preparing to go 
to the station with Mr. Allen to meet 
Aunt Helen. She was coming to take Rose 
home. Louise felt heart-sick over it, but, 
like the dear thoughtful child she was, she 
carefully hid her distress, lest Rose be¬ 
come unhappy, too. As it was. Rose was in 
a fever of delight, and hadn’t a care in the 
world, except for the freckles. She forgot 
those, too, when she and Louise were in 
the car with Mr. Allen, driving to the sta¬ 
tion. Mrs. Allen stayed at home, to pre- 


i86 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 


pare a special dinner in honor of the com¬ 
ing visitor. 

So, when Rose’s mother stepped off the 
train with little Laddie, it was her little 
girl she saw first, no longer thin and pale 
and listless, but a riotous, eager, pink¬ 
cheeked Rose, who could not seem to let 
go of Mother and wee Laddie. 

Louise felt dreadfully shy for a moment, 
but, when Mr. Allen advanced to greet her 
Auntie, she went with him, and held out 
her hand shyly. Aunt Helen hugged and 
kissed her little niece, and then Laddie 
came in for his share of attention. Rose 
felt a tiny bit jealous when she saw how 
Mr. Allen and Louise laughed over her 
little brother and his funny little speeches. 

They drove out to the farm, and how 
glad Mrs. Allen was to see her sister, and 
the baby boy. She had never seen Laddie 


GOING HOME 187 

before, and now she couldn’t have enough 
of him. 

“Isn’t he a darling baby?’’ every one 
cried. 

“But he isn’t really a baby,’’ laughed his 
mother. “He is past two, nearly three.” 

“How do you like your made-over 
daughter?” asked Mrs. Allen, her hand on 
Rose’s shoulder. 

“Isn’t she the picture of health?” cried 
Rose’s mother. “I have never seen her 
look so well. She has grown inches, I am 
sure, and tanned—and rosy—and glad to 
see her mummy?” 

“Oh yes. Mother,” breathed Rose, arms 
around Mother’s neck. “So glad! I’ve 
missed you every day.” 

“You haven’t pined away for me,” 
laughed her mother. “It has made you 
fat.” 



i88 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 


After his nap, Laddie was taken out to 
the farmyard, to see all the pets. He was 
afraid of Madge, she was such a big dog¬ 
gie. When she tried, in eager friendliness, 
to lick his face, he cried. 

“She just wanted to kiss you. Sonny- 
boy,” said Louise soothingly, but Laddie 
insisted, “I don’ want he does it again,” so 
Louise sent Madge away. 

Laddie liked Lulu, the cat, and admired 
the hens very much. He patted Lulu’s soft 
coat, then said to Louise: “I wish I want 
to patter a hen.” 

“Let him try,” laughed his mother, who 
stood near. So he ran toward the nearest 
hen, but she moved off. He approached 
a second, and she ran. He ran after a 
third, but she outdistanced him in a mo¬ 
ment. He ran into a group of hens, and 
they fled squawking. He stood and looked 


GOING HOME 189 

after them, murmuring, “I can’t want to 
patter those hens to-day,” and returned to 
Louise’s side. 

Laddie made friends with Teddy at 

0 

once. Riding on Teddy’s back was the best 
. of sport to the little fellow. Teddy carried 
him so much that Mrs. Shaw declared he 
didn’t look natural any longer without 
Laddie on his shoulders. The tiny boy 
grew fond of Madge, too, pulled her about, 
abused her and hugged her, tried to climb 
on her back, sat down on her when she lay 
asleep, and the strange part of it was that 
Madge seemed to enjoy it all. She followed 
the little boy about, wherever he went. 

The day set for the departure came very 
quickly. Every one felt sad. Teddy had a 
very long face, a very solemn one. Mr. 
Allen declared he could not part with the 
children—^he pretended to bargain with 



190 SIX-YEAR-OLD’S STORY-BOOK 

Rose’s mother for them both. Mrs. Allen 
had to try very hard to smile and to keep 
back a few tears that seemed determined to 
fall. Poor Louise could not manage a 
smile at all. Her Aunt Helen cried, and 
Rose cried, too, hugging Louise with all 
her might. Uncle Jim, who had. come to 
drive them to the station, laughed at them 
all, but inwardly he felt very sorry, too. 
Laddie was the only happy person, and he 
was delighted at the prospect of a ride on 
the “tootie-train.” 

“Don’ c’y, Wose,” he said, trying to 
comfort her, “I bring you back to-mor¬ 
row.” 

Her mother whispered to her of Daddy 
in the city, and of her little friends there, 
especially Ned, who lived across the street, 
and of Rufus, the little red-haired terrier. 
So Rose was soon in a more cheerful 


GOING HOME 


191 

frame of mind, and, as the train pulled out, 
was able to smile through her tears, and 
wave her hand to the little group left be¬ 
hind. 

But there seemed no solace at first for 
poor Louise. She missed Rose dreadfully, 
till she ached with the feeling of loss. She 
missed her Auntie and little Laddie, too, 
but Rose the most. 

“Mother,” she said, “I don’t seem to 
know what to do. Everything I did before 
was with Rose.” 

School finally opened, and that helped 
Louise. And she clung hopefully to a 
promise Uncle Jim had whispered to her: 
—“I will have Rose here for a visit next 
summer, even if I have to go all the way to 
the city to steal her.” Louise believed in 
Uncle Jim—he would keep his promise. 
He was the kind of uncle that always did. 



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